


Heaven Help A Thief (Who Falls In Love)

by theobligatedklutz



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Tangled (2010) Fusion, Angst, Blood and Injury, Boys In Love, Child Abduction, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Tangled (2010), M/M, Manipulative Relationship, Original Character(s), Physical Abuse, Swearing, Tangled AU, WARNINGS:, Weapons, and wait till you meet reggie's horse, flynn rider!alex, married juke, mentions of smoking, rapunzel!willie, underage drinking i guess, warnings may change or get added, willex focused, willie with long hair :3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28789473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theobligatedklutz/pseuds/theobligatedklutz
Summary: Alexander Mercer’s life begun with thievery and if he has anything to say about it, it will end with his own island surrounded by an enormous amount of wealth. Too bad, it’s not in his hands. Probably because Willie, a boy with extraordinarily long, brown hair frypans his way into his life and changes the course of it drastically.Willie? He just wants to see the floating lights.Two days worth a lifetime follow.A Willex Tangled AU
Relationships: Alex Mercer & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Bobby | Trevor Wilson & Alex Mercer & Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters, Caleb Covington & Willie, Flynn/Carrie Wilson, Julie Molina/Luke Patterson
Comments: 205
Kudos: 354





	1. Bambi

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thesunwillshineclear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesunwillshineclear/gifts).



> Ryn said tangled willex au and I said *404 errors* okay.
> 
> Additionals:
> 
> I made a playlist for _Heaven Help A Thief (Who Falls In Love)_ [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3vDaCbJxBIozUDWgQrearu). (It's in an order for a reason)
> 
>  **RYN MADE ART:[Willie and his Frying Pan // Alex & Willie](https://thesunwillart.tumblr.com/post/640527969247510529/i-cant-believe-i-said-willex-tangled-au-to) ||| [Willie - Caleb hand grip scene](https://thesunwillart.tumblr.com/post/640585709616594944/any-time-i-think-abt-caleb-its-just-kill-bill)**
> 
> Note:  
> This first chapter contains the basic elements of the movie, after this it is subject to change as I flesh it out and add my own scenes in what I envision a willex tangled au would look like.
> 
>  **PLEASE READ WARNINGS IN ADDITIONAL TAGS AND TREAD CAREFULLY.**
> 
> **Chapter warnings:** emotional/psychological manipulation, slight swearing, implied drinking/ alcohol mention, frypans being used to hit people over the head

It started with a cosmic event. The kind that jolted Mars and Venus. It shook the sun of a single drop of its light, straight from its soft-tempered core and that drop of sun found its way onto the damp soil of the earth.

From it, grew a golden flower like no other, soft aureate emanating from its petals and unraveling warm yellows and ambers onto the flora and fauna around it; the only source of light and comfort for miles within the forest.

It would’ve lived untouched for centuries to come except a man near death stumbled upon it, discovered its magic and chose to use it for his own gain.

All he had to do was sing a song to the sundrop flower and with its blossom, it would reverse all sickness and old age, returning the ailed man to his young radiant self.

That was the core of the flower’s power: youth and health. You see, in the wrong hands, that kind of magic could only nurture greed, selfishness and malice. Even murder. And for centuries, it did. The man, Caleb, hid it for himself, wiped out anyone who discovered it or attempted to steal it.

Except the universe said no more one day and the flower was uncovered by the guards of a nearby kingdom.

Said Kingdom, Felizia, was ruled by benevolent King Fercutio and his Queen who had been trying to conceive for many years, to have a child of their own, the future heir to the throne. But when Queen Sylvia finally got pregnant, she became sick.

The flower came just in time and with its magic, she was healed and they had a beautiful baby boy. Little Prince William, with brilliant sunbathed brown hair and the warmest laugh. In celebration, the king and queen lit a glowing lantern, sending it off and the kingdom followed, filling the sky to the brim with little globes of light. For a second, the world was bright and at peace. 

Until Caleb came back for what he believed was rightfully his, climbing into a slumbering William’s bedroom, casting a shadow over his cradle. Caleb sang his song as he took a piece of the Prince's hair in his hand.

_Flower gleam and glow. Let your powers shine. Make the clock reverse. Bring back what once was mine. Heal what has been hurt. Change the fates design. Save what has been lost. Bring back what once was mine. What once was mine._

He watched the way each strand of hair growing on the sleeping boy’s head luminesced bright golden and with each word, Caleb’s skin turned smooth again, his silver hair turning black and his heart beating a robust rhythm. Caleb sought to cut a piece of hair off for his own means. Except when he did, the snipped piece lost its magic, turning darker in colour and his body regressing back to the appearance of the ragged old man he detested. 

_Now, that just wouldn’t work._

He sneered as he plucked the child from his home and vanished into the night, leaving behind a resounding echo of loss and despair.

The kingdom searched and searched but they couldn't find little William again for the Prince had been hidden in a tower deep within the forest and raised by the man that stole him away and this time, Caleb made sure no one would ever discover his flower again.

* * *

For as long as Willie could remember, every year on his birthday, these glowing balls of light would float up and fill every inch of his sky like stars, constellations.

Except they weren’t stars, Willie was sure of that. He’d seen stars, he'd studied stars, they were too far away, out of reach and untouchable. These floating lights were tangible somehow. Willie just knew if he got close enough, he could press a hand against them. He imagined they were warm like the comfortable heat of a summer day. Soft like the feel of fur against his skin. And just as bright and vibrant as the sun.

Somehow he felt the lights appeared just for him. A gift from the universe on his day. He dreamt of seeing them up close one day and now that he was a day away from eighteen, maybe his father would let him go.

He dipped his brush back into the yellow, laying out another soaring glowing light in the ombre blue he'd painted over the back wall. With every stroke, his hope to see the lights reverberated in his chest.

The sound of his father returning from his errands pulled him from his reverie and he placed his paintbrush back into the tray. Pushing himself up at his father's gruff voice, he stepped down from the rafters, gathering his long hair in his arms and rushing over to the open window.

"William, let down your hair!"

"Coming, Father!"

He pulled his hair taut against the hook right outside the window, pushing them out and watching them spiral down the side of the tower, inches away from the ground, enough that his father could climb it up.

He drew back just as his father entered, broadening his shoulders, straightening his posture and pressing a hand down his disheveled hair.

Caleb didn't seem to notice his form, instead, his eyes zeroed in on the spot of yellow on Willie's cheek and a scowl pulled at the corner of his lips. Willie's smile fell, his hand wiped at his face for whatever had caught his father's attention, cringing at the smear of paint that came off on the pads of his fingers.

Caleb sighed, his eyes lidded as he untied his cloak and hung it on the hook against the wall. 

"I expect you to be quicker next time. And do try to keep the paint on the walls." Caleb said, walking further into the room and settling the frayed straw basket in his hand onto the ground. He stepped in front of the black cheval mirror that sat against one of the tower pillars, examining the tired lines of his face and pressing a hand above his eyebrow.

Almost eighteen years and Willie still couldn't help wanting to cower in his father's presence. Or stop the way his throat dried up every time his father furrowed his brows at him, dissatisfaction the only emotion decipherable in his expression.

"Yes, Father." He mumbled, jabbing a thumb into the skin near his elbow in an attempt to calm the turmoil gathering in the pit of his stomach before turning to look at Caleb who was watching him from the reflection of the mirror. 

"William, I'm feeling a little tired, won't you sing to me?" Not waiting for an answer, his father settled into the red cushioned chair near the vanity, grabbing the silver brush that rested on the gray marble and ushering his boy over.

Willie sat down on the little velvet stool in front of the chair brooking no argument as his father stroked the brush over his long brown hair, a mockery of tenderness in his hands. And Willie sang the first words he'd been taught to speak, tucking his chin into his knees and suppressing the thrill of the lights until the moment called for it. But he couldn’t — he'd waited too long already —and his desire erupted out of him in a string of rushed syllables.

"I want to go see the floating lights."

He'd practiced saying those exact words countless times in the mirror, pacing his room and perfecting the request so his father couldn't deny him. Yet they still came out too quiet, too unsure and he bit his lips, bristling at his own cowardice. 

His father froze, the brush clattering to the ground in his shock.

Willie stumbled up onto his feet, refusing to turn around to see the expression on his father's face. He knew it wasn't a good sign that silence had blanketed the air but he used it to his advantage, scampering onto the rafters — forgetting for a moment how much Caleb hated when he did that — to show his father the painting of the vibrant lights he'd splayed over the walls.

"It's my birthday tomorrow." He was sure Father remembered but the strict indifference on his face didn't change an inch. "And I was really hoping–"

"I knew letting you paint was a bad idea. Now you've grown an overactive imagination."

The words hurt. They felt like rusted nails pressed into his chest but Willie chose to ignore them, flattening his palm over the dried yellow strokes on the wall, attempting to ground himself.

"Father, please. They are real. You've seen them too."

“You’re talking about the stars.” Caleb breathed out, irritation soaked in every word.

“No, no. I know stars. These are not stars. And I just want to go see what they are for myself.”

"No." Caleb was absolute, there was no room for argument but Willie dreamt of this for far too long, he wasn't giving it up just yet.

"Why not?" His voice was soft, too scared to yell out his frustrations but too stubborn to let this go but Caleb's head still snapped over to him like he'd spewed an insult.

"Why not? Because monsters live out there!" Caleb scoffed, stepping up in front of Willie, a finger hooking under his chin so they were eye to eye. Willie fought the urge to back away, his fists clenching at his sides. "They would eat you alive. And just look in the mirror, William. You're a mess. You're _weak_. You wouldn't last a minute let alone a full day out there!"

Tears gathered in his lash line, just begging to spill down his cheeks and Willie wiped an aggressive hand over his eyes.

"Fath–"

"I'm going back out and when I return, not a word of this. We're _done_ talking about it, William." Caleb backed away, his eyes thunderous and his feet echoing loudly in the sudden silence.

Willie’s heart lost its place in his chest, falling, _falling_ all around his feet, a quiet kind of shatter but just as painful.

His father never turned back.

* * *

The Phantoms were renowned thieves. Four men caught up in the greed of gems and jewels and money. Until Reginald Peters could no longer live in the guilt or shame of his acts. He made an honest life for himself, joined the court guards and spent every moment of his time getting his best friends Alexander Mercer, Lucas Patterson and Robert Wilson to do the same. 

Lucas was the next to go. He found love. A beautiful gold-skinned beauty came along, coloured his life a different shade and he stepped away too. To settle down and make a family. 

Bobby was the last to leave. He found passion in his music, became famous enough that he could live out his life without the hassle of crime.

There was just Alex then.

But Alex was in it for the long game and he was self-destructive. Two traits that worked wonders for bandits. He wasn’t doing it for the rush. He wanted what his parents couldn't give him. And he wanted enough that he'd never be unhappy. Money, replenishment. He did not need passion or love or desires. He needed money. So he continued to steal, loot, pillage.

_"This has gone on long enough. If I find out you stole from the palace again, I'll hunt you down myself." Reggie had spat at him the last time they'd met._

_"Go for it,_ Reginald _. Be the good little hero you’ve always wanted to be." Alex rolled his eyes, pushing his feet up onto the surface of the table at the bar they sat in, the image of indifference. It was a dare. One that Alex knew Reggie would never be able to fulfill — he was too attached — and it made Alex all the more arrogant._

_Reggie’s fingers tightened around his glass and he grit his teeth, opening his mouth to spew the disdain on his tongue but Luke spoke up before him._

_"When will this stop?" There was anger in Luke’s tone but the deep sigh that followed made his words sound fickle in the air. When Alex took a moment to survey his face, he caught the tiredness. Luke looked haggard and if that's what living an honest life did to you, it was a hard pass for Alex._

_"You all lost to sentimentality but I have nothing to lose. This is all I know. All I have!" Alex hissed, sloshing around the amber liquid in his glass, keeping the agony of being left behind, betrayed by his bestfriends out of his voice._

_They were always supposed to have each others’ backs. Always be shoulder to shoulder. Brothers in arms. They had made that promise in their youth but Alex was the only one keeping it._

_"_ Nothing _to lose?” Luke snarled, his eyes narrowing._

_“Are we– are we nothing to you?” For the first time since they had started talking, Reggie’s voice had gone quiet and small. It made the smirk on Alex’s face drop in mere seconds._

_“No, that's–”_

_“Come on, Reg, Luke. We should get going.” Bobby finally broke his silence, abruptly standing up from his chair. Alex snapped his head over at the man, his gaze falling over the sheer disappointment that furrowed Bobby’s brows and the frown that seemed indelible against his face._

_Luke and Reggie seemed hesitant, willing to beg Alex to leave behind the con life but they all knew the man was unhearing, too bull-headed._

_Trying to argue with Alex was like walking in circles. Endless and foolish. There was no man that could ever deter him once he'd made up his mind and even though Luke, Reggie and Bobby knew this, they still tried._

_But even decade old friendships had limits._

_That was that. Alex had somehow found a way to hurt the only few people he truly cared about. He was selfish and malicious and he expected nothing less than his family leaving him._

So why was it such a surprise to him that he was presently being chased down by Reginald Peters himself.

This had started out as a good day, a great day even. The sun was shining, the sky a thing of beauty but it had all gone down hill when the guards discovered the heist and chased him, their swords drawn.

He understood their reaction. Honestly, he did. He had stolen the Prince’s crown, an important relic in the kingdom, saved for when the Prince returns, worth all the kingdom's wealth combined, yada yada yada. But, he had done the palace a favor. The crown was gathering quite the blanket of dust and Alex was simply taking it for a joy ride. Permanently.

Yet he was being repaid with guards hunting him down. Seeing his ex-best friend, indifference and wrath bold in his stride, pursuing him on horse and fronting half the kingdom’s security didn't help the case.

It put a damper on his biggest win yet and the most beautiful day he'd seen in a while. But he couldn't deny how much it threw him that Reggie had become a man of his word. 

If this was any other situation, Alex would be proud but it was a little hard to be proud when you were dodging jagged rocks and fallen trunks and bending to avoid overhanging branches. 

The guards had given chase so far that they had now reached forest territory and Alex’s adrenaline had began to run thin. He pulled one of the last arrows from the quiver hanging at his back, turning around and shooting it at the foot of the horses. It alarmed them enough that Alex made some distance, a victorious smile making a home on his face.

Homeus was a different story.

Reggie’s trusty white horse, clever beyond his years and loyal to a fault. He was not dissuaded by a finicky arrow— he swerved past it entirely—, gaining the lost distance back. 

Alex huffed, wiping the sweat off his forehead and beginning to form a different plan. He leaped off the next rock in his path, grabbing onto a vine draped against a tree branch. He swung backwards towards Reggie and Homeus, kicking Reggie off of his (high) horse and planting himself in his place.

There was some satisfaction in watching Reggie roll onto the grass in a heap and seeing the dumbfounded look on his face as he sat up to watch Alex pass him. Alex laughed, grabbing Homeus’ reins but not before he threw a finger over his shoulder.

_How many more times are you going to let me win, Reg?_

Homeus realized in a matter of seconds that his rider was no longer Reggie. He turned towards Alex, his big black eyes zeroing in on the fanny pack at his hip, the one that contained the crown, and he flung his rear end upwards into the air, throwing Alex off.

Alex landed in front of the horse with a thud, his breath nearly lost at the impact and an “Ow!" erupting from his mouth. He took a second to get his bearings before jerking up and backing away, Homeus stalked closer and Alex caught sight of Reggie running towards them in his peripheral.

_Two against one. An unfair fight and Alex was not about to stick around for that._

He bolted off again, his feet heavy against the dirt path under him yet muted by the crack of hooves right behind him.

Maybe if he hadn’t been so caught off guard —by a meagre horse at that— he would’ve seen the cliff. But both him and Homeus had been so busy playing cat and mouse, they plummeted off the cliff. He watched in slow motion as Reggie stopped at the edge, peering down at them, alarm and frenzied worry painted over his usual frustration towards Alex.

That expression of concern. It made Alex's heart heavy. If he was about to die, he really wished he hadn’t upset the only people that gave a shit about him. He wished he told them how much he–

A cosmic joke. That's what it was. A way for the universe to teach him to repent before it was too late because the short cliff ended in a hill of cushioned grass. 

Alex shook out the feelings of guilt he’d accumulated on the way down before shoving a hand in his belt bag, sighing at the warm metal of the crown still snug inside. 

The sound of neighing nearby alerted him of how close Homeus was and he tucked himself behind a rock, feeling the thundering of heavy gallops against the ground. 

Crawling away from the sound, Alex slinked into a patch of hanging foliage to hide from the horse and found himself in a large clearing. 

His jaw found the ground at the view in front of him.

There was a cascading waterfall and flourishing shrubs and trees grew all around the valley but what really caught Alex’s eyes was the tower in the middle of it all, just in front of the falls. With a slated conical roof of dark purple, built up with cream coloured bricks almost all obscured by vibrantly green ivy, it stood as high as one of the palace towers, if not higher. A lone window sat at the highest point, just below the roof and Alex felt a wave of hope course through his body.

It looked untouched and that and the sound of hooves too close motivated Alex enough to grip the last two arrows in his quiver, using them to scale up the wall of the tower. He slipped his legs through the open window, settling his feet onto the stone floor and closing the wooden doors of the window before he surveyed the room. It was too quiet and dark to be lived in and he took a calming breath before unclasping his fanny pack from his hip and pulling open its flap to check on the crown. 

That was his first mistake because the next second, pain reverberated through his skull, something hard making impact with the back of his head. He registered falling before he lost consciousness. 

* * *

There was a man in his room. 

Willie didn’t know how he got in or who he was but he stood near the window, champagne blond head of hair bobbing up and down as he laughed quietly at something in his bag. 

This had to be one of those lunatics Father told him about and the fear crawled further up spine at the idea that a madman would murder him at only seventeen years of age. He hadn’t even turned eighteen yet, he still had so much to do. Willie watched him from behind his kitchen counter, his fingers blindly feeling for something to use as a weapon. 

The frying pan would have to do. 

He carefully walked up behind the man, his bare feet soundless against the stone tiles, pulling back and swinging the cast iron at the man’s head swiftly. The resounding sound of a metal pan against the man's head bunched up the insides of Willie's stomach and he swallowed, watching the man crumble onto a heap on the floor immediately.

He darted back in fear, hoping against hope that the man wouldn’t get back up. When he showed no signs of movement, Willie took a small step forward to scrutinize him.

He used the handle of the pan to move back the hair that had fallen over the man’s forehead and eyes. His eyes widened when he saw his unobscured face.

He’d only read about beauty in the three worn out romance novels leaning on his shelf but if there was any word to describe this man, he would have to say beautiful. _He was absolutely stunning._ He tucked his hair behind his ear as he leaned further down to look at the man, taking in the pink lips and long lashes fanning over healthy red cheeks and the way his gold hair shimmered in the little strands of sunlight that came from the shuttered windows. Willie would’ve swooned if it wasn’t for the abrupt way the man’s green eyes flicked open. 

Willie stumbled back, his breath hitching. _He was awake. The man was awake!_

In his shock and panic, Willie struck the pan at the man’s head again, pushing him back into his forced slumber.

He huffed, a hand against his head. _What was he supposed to do with this beautiful strange madman?_

_Hide him, you dumbass! Hide him before Father comes! Then figure out the rest later._

He grabbed the man from under his arms then, dragging him to his closet and pushing the man into the small space. It wasn't easy. The man was built and heavy and the attempts it took to get him into the closet left Willie winded and disheveled.

He leaned a chair against the closet door to keep it shut before he decided the inevitable freak out simmering under his skin had waited long enough.

"I have a man in my closet." He whispered to himself, pacing as he clung the frying pan to his chest. 

"I have a _man_ in my _closet!"_ A smile spread over his face, spinning on his heel to look at the mirror next to his closet, a giggle bubbling out of his mouth. "I did that. _I_ did _that_!" 

If he told his father how he had singlehandedly dissuaded a strange man from murdering him (stealing from him? taking his hair?), maybe he wouldn't think Willie so incompetent. Maybe he would let him go see the floating lights.

He looked up into the mirror again, nodding at the face of utter excitement and pride looking back at him. _This could work._

The reflection of something shiny caught in his eye, something that sat in the man's discarded bag behind Willie and Willie turned around, flipping open the cracking, time worn leather slowly.

A large ring of gems stared back at him, jewels of white and blue shimmering in the curved silver of the ring-shaped metal and he was enamoured by the sheer beauty of it. He brought it up to his eyes, examining it before attempting to put it on.

_Was it a bracelet or a necklace–_

When he caught his reflection again, something deep in his chest drove him to settle it over his head and he froze, mesmerized by the way the metal ring adorned his head like it was made for him. For a second, everything slotted into place, something fixing itself in his memories. He felt like if he tried he could find all the answers. All he had to do was move the misty veil in his mind's eye–

"William, let down your hair!" The sound of his father's call made him jump, a gasp escaping his mouth as he quickly put the gemmed head ring back into the pouch, hiding it in under the brush of a potted plant nearby.

"Father, I have something to tell you!" He exclaimed when his father pulled himself up from the window sill.

"This better not be about the stars." Caleb warned, putting down his basket of market bought apples and cheese onto the kitchen counter.

"Floating lights. And I was getting to that–" Willie stepped towards the closet.

"I said no, William." Willie failed to notice the annoyance in the tone as he settled a hand over the chair sitting against the closet's double doors.

“But if you’d just listen–”

"William. _William_.” Caleb gritted out as he turned around, his coat swishing with the movement. His tone had grown abrasive, not a hint of humanity within it and what shut Willie up was the way his father’s face had twisted into a scorching snarl. 

The room grew cold. 

Willie took a step back even though there was more than enough distance between him and his father, his back hitting the wall behind him. 

“Let me make this clear. You're _never_ seeing the lights. You're _never_ leaving this tower. _Not_ now. Not in twenty years or fifty. or a hundred. Never. William, _Never_.” There was viciousness in Caleb’s words, his stance threatening and his hands rolled into fists at his sides. 

It struck fear so intense within him that for a moment Willie forgot how to breathe, his heartbeat frenzied in his chest. He tried to bite down on the quiver that shook his lips but it was futile.

The words played in his head in a loop.

 _You're never leaving this tower. You're never leaving this tower._ _Never. Leaving. This. Tower._

_He was going to be trapped in this tower forever._

_He was going to die here._

_No._ No.

Caleb sat down on the grand chair in the centre of the room, exhaling deeply. "You just love making me the bad guy."

_That wasn't true. He hadn't meant to–_

Willie swallowed, strengthening his resolve before breaking the silence that had settled over the room, his voice quiet and trembling. "O–Okay... How about paint?" 

"What?" Caleb asked, rubbing his temple with his forefingers.

"Paint. For my birthday. I know you don't like me painting. But...I just thought it was a better idea than the...it's better than the _stars_." 

He looked up, straight into Caleb's eyes, his glassy tears on full display as he crossed his arms over his frame.

Willie's eyes dropped to the floor when he was met with a stone face and he caved in on himself. His thumb brushed alongside his forearm, just above his elbow trying at self-comforting but failing. He mentally prepared for another refusal from his father.

The fickle hope still rushed just underneath his skin, pushing through the pessimism. _No, this could still work._

His lips trembled as he waited, a bitter taste of manipulation in his mouth. He was tricking his father but he refused to wait any longer to see the lights. He needed his father out of the tower to do that.

Caleb's stoicism broke and he sighed, exasperation clear as he stood up and pressed a hand down his black suit, smoothing out the wrinkles.

"Okay." 

Willie's head snapped up in surprise. _Was this working? Was he actually appealing to his father?_

He recovered quickly, concealing the excitement surging through his bones and nodding his head. He stepped around the closet to pack a basket of food and water hastily. The paint was a three days trip and hopefully enough for Willie to go see the lights and come back with plenty of time to spare.

He handed his father the basket just as he pulled on his cloak but before Willie could step back, Caleb grabbed his arm at the last second, his grip steeling against his wrist.

Willie’s breath caught in his throat and he tried to pull away but Caleb only yanked him closer, casting a shadow over him with his hulking form.

"I expect you to behave while I'm gone, William. You do love painting. Would hate to have to take that away from you. Yes?" Caleb warned. The sharp edges of his face caught the shadows in the room and sent the screaming fear in Willie's veins soaring.

The pain in his wrist grew hot with his panic and he tried to twist his arm out of Caleb's grip again, the friction only worsening the fire enveloping his skin. "Y-yes." 

His father’s hold seized on his wrist, his hand moving up to Willie’s face instead. Caleb sweeped a smooth thumb over Willie's cheek and the desire to push into the rare gentleness his father expressed versus the instinct to flinch back in fear conflicted Willie.

The stark contrast of his father's touch would've driven anyone mad but Willie had lived too many years of this exact push and pull to be surprised. Whenever he thought his father was finally warming up to him, something would change and he was thrown back into the bone-chilling cold. Harsh words, sharp tongue, scorn and disappointment followed the unexpected gifts and fruitful approvals.

It made something inside Willie break over and over again.

He chose to stand still just as he had all the other times, his eyes cast downwards.

Caleb stepped back, letting his hand drop all together as he swung his legs over the ledge, gripping Willie's hair for the climb down. 

A breath of relief left his mouth when his father disappeared into the swaying foliage, far enough away that Willie could put his plan into motion. He turned back to the closet, intent settling in his eyes. 

Willie was doing this. His father didn't need to find out but he was going to do this.

* * *

He came to slowly, instantly feeling the throbbing against his temple. He couldn't remember how he got here but he knew he wasn't supposed to be wherever here was immediately upon opening his eyes.

The room around him was dimly lit, the only source of light being the sun filtering through the half opened window. 

He had failed to notice the bed tucked in the corner when he first came in, a slew of throw pillows covering the pale blue sheets. A bookshelf sat leaning against the wall next to the bed, vacant but for a few books. There was a small kitchen to the left of the expansive room, metal pots and pans lining the walls above the stove. The walls in question were almost all covered in tints of yellows, blues, greens with the occasional oranges and reds, murals of the sun, the grass and ombre skies. 

_Not lived in, huh? Exceptional work, Alex!_

He noted his predicament. He was tied down to a chair with something that looked awfully a lot like hair. Sleek light brown hair. 

They covered the stone floor, cascaded down the rafters like a waterfall of brown. Wrapped themselves around Alex's body as makeshift rope. If Alex had to guess simply from the amount of walls he'd scaled in his career, he had to say it was at least 60 to 70 feet long. 

He searched for the owner of the hair, his eyes falling to a figure perched on the rafters.

"Is this hair?" He spoke up and almost immediately, the figure jerked up.

"You're awake." It was a soft voice, deep. Belonging to a young man maybe.

Alex watched as the shadow jumped down, bare feet landing with a muted thud against the floor below, his hair swinging by the motion. Some of the light hit the stranger and Alex was certain that it was a boy.

But even with all his certainty, he'd never seen a boy like this before. 

He finally stepped out into the open and Alex’s breath caught in his throat at the sight before him, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He gazed at the set of deep brown eyes that stared back at him, fear, inquisition and a strange sort of thrill drenched in them. With the boy this close, Alex studied his features more carefully; his high cheekbones, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the full set of lips and the way his satin hair swooped over his face, falling just to the side of his forehead.

Simply put, he was... _exquisite._

A sharp light stung Alex's vision as if punishing him for drinking in the details of the strange boy so shamelessly and indulgently, but it was shards of light glinting off the little teal teardrop earring that danced against the boy's right ear.

He gripped a black cast iron frying pan in his hands, pointing it towards Alex threateningly.

"You broke into my tower." The boy uttered, accusation laced in his voice and any feelings of infatuation Alex indulged in dispersed in mere seconds.

"I broke into your tower?! You hit me with a frying pan!" Alex snarked back, twisting his arms against the armrest of the chair, testing the give of the hair. There wasn't any. “Almost cracked my head open!”

“Because _you_ broke into _my_ tower!” The boy narrowed his eyes, shoving his frying pan closer to Alex’s face with each impressed word. “I know why you’re here! What do you want with my hair?" 

"Your hair? Why would I want anything to do with your hair–" 

"Do you wanna cut it? Sell it? _What_ do you want with it?" The boy circled around Alex and the interrogation routine would’ve grown old by now yet Alex found him oddly entertaining.

He moved closer to Alex, bringing the frying pan right up under his chin, the suspicion on his face drawing heavier by the second. 

"Listen _Bambi,_ the only thing I wanna do with your hair is to _get out_ of it." Alex sighed, watching the way the strands of hair that had fallen over Bambi's face shifted slightly from his breath.

The boy flushed, realizing how close he was to Alex and stepping away quickly. 

One of his hands came up to slot his hair behind his ear, away from his hot face and Alex's throat dried up at the action.

 _Goddamn_.

Bambi was...really something else.

"Then why are you here?" He asked, focusing back on Alex.

“Bamb–” Alex started, shaking away the daze.

"It's Willia– it's Willie."

 _Willie._ It suited him, somehow matched the exhilarance of his face and the strength in his eyes. Willie.

“ _Bambi_. I came up here to get away from-”

_The fanny pack! Where was his fanny pack?_

"Where the hell is my fanny pack?" Alex looked around frantically, words rushing out on a heavy breath.

"Doesn't matter. If you want it, you'll have to do something for me first." A newfound confidence entered Willie's voice, like it was his first taste of leverage and he already couldn't get enough.

"And what's that?" Alex lifted an eyebrow, his lips pressing together in a thin line.

“Once a year, there are these glowing lights in the sky." Willie said as he pushed himself onto the rafters of the back wall, tugging the lights on and pointing out the yellow globes sitting forefront against the strokes of blue on the wall.

"Oh. The lanterns they light up for the Prince every year for his birthday?"

Willie froze and everything seemed to click into place. _They were lanterns. He knew they weren't just stars!_

"Lanterns." He tested the word out on his tongue, liking the way it thrummed against his throat and spread a warmth through his chest, unaware of the way Alex carefully watched the expressions of his face.

"You don’t get out much, do you?" Alex meant it as a joke but Willie’s face fell anyway.

_No, he didn’t._

If he didn’t go see the lights this time, Willie was starting to believe he would live and die in this tower, never having seen the outside world. The thought alone made his insides churn, his heart sinking to his stomach. 

_Was it worth the risk though?_

Willie looked down for a second, tracing his eyes over the darkening mark against his wrist, a coldness winding around his lungs. His father had left angry and what would he do if he found out Willie had been out gallivanting about with some stranger?

He shook his head. _No_ , he was not letting his dreams go. They were the only things keeping him sane. He was doing this. He would see about the rest later.

Willie struggled with something. The more Alex studied him, the more he seemed to discover the way Willie's eyes flitted about, out of focus. He caught the angry bruises at Willie’s wrist and an inexplicable rage clawed at Alex’s chest at the idea of someone hurting Willie – A boy he had only just come to know. But Willie was so good, even stuck in his hair and being interrogated with a frying pan at his throat, Alex _knew_ Willie was _good_.

Willie finally seemed to build enough of a resolve to look back up at Alex, a new glint in his eyes. "So these lanterns? They are for the Prince's birthday?"

It was a hard thought to swallow. He was happy for the Prince...there was a whole kingdom that loved him, they lit up the sky with their affection for him. It was a stark contrast to how he spent every one of his birthdays in this lone tower, looking out a window at paper lanterns not even illuminated for him. Nevertheless, they provided some semblance of joy to his stagnant life and for that alone, the lanterns were worth it.

“Yes, they light the lanterns in hopes that the Prince will return someday." 

“Return?”

Alex’s brows drew together sharply, confusion settling over his face. _How did Willie not know about any of this?_

“He’s lost. Someone stole him from the palace the night of his birth.”

“Oh.” Willie shuddered, a hand coming up to cover his mouth.

For a moment, the air seemed to turn stale at the idea of someone stealing a child from his family.

Willie exhaled a shaky breath as he slipped down the beam, coming back to stand in front of Alex. 

Alex's eyes automatically drew to the livid bruises at Willie’s arm. They looked worse closer up, reds, blues and purples in the shape of long lithe fingers encircling his wrist.

Willie followed Alex’s line of sight and pulled the ballooned sleeves of his teal tunic further down his arm to hide the bruises before clearing his throat.

"Tomorrow, they’ll light the sky with these lanterns and I need you to take me to see them. You do that and I'll give you back your fanny pack." 

"No deal. I’m not exactly welcome in the kingdom right now so if I go with you, I’ll just burden you in your travels. Why don’t you just give me the fanny pack right now and I’ll get out of your hair? _Literally._ ” Alex tugged at the hair around his arms to get his point across but Willie didn't look the least bit amused.

Willie narrowed his eyes and shuffled closer, one hand going to the frame of the chair as he leaned into Alex’s space, his lips curling into a scowl. “Something brought you here. Call it what you want. Fate, Destiny–”

“A horse.” Alex deadpanned, his eyes half-lidded. 

“I would call it my luck finally changing. So I’ve decided, despite all of your very obvious flaws,–”

“Hey!”

“–to trust you.”

“That is a horrible decision. Where are your instincts, man?” Alex raised an eyebrow at Willie. Clearly his fight or flight response was broken.

But then he felt the ghost pain at the back of his head. It seemed Willie’s fight mode was working just fine. Although, his flight mode left much to be desired.

“Listen to me carefully. You can run around this tower all day, night, year looking for your fanny pack but I can guarantee you without my help, you won’t find it.” Willie said the words with such conviction, it made Alex’s stomach drop.

 _He_ needed _that crown back. He’d already started imagining a life complete with the beach and oceans of money and Willie was truly being a buzzkill right now._

“Oh come on!” Alex huffed out a breath, a pout falling onto his face as a last resort to get his way but Willie was unrelenting. “Does a wanted criminal mean nothing to you? You haven’t heard of me? Alexander Mercer? Renowned criminal mastermind.”

_Mastermind was pushing it but he was dangerous, okay!_

Willie crossed his arms, shaking his head. “Is that supposed to scare me?” 

_It should’ve scared Willie._

It should’ve scared him senseless but there was something about the man in front of him that made him comfortable. He wasn’t lying about having put his trust in Alex. For some reason- maybe it was his awkward charm or the way he showed concern for Willie even though they had just met or maybe it was the warmth in his eyes that the man tried so hard to conceal– whatever it was, Willie trusted Alex.

"Yes! I'm wanted! I'm a criminal! What about that is not scary?!"

“You can go back to being wanted after you show me the _lights._ ”

“It doesn’t work like that. It's not an optional thing, I can't choose to be _wanted._ "

Willie blinked owlishly, unaffected by his pleas, his hands at his hips and if Alex's hands were free, he would rub his temples. Instead, an exasperated sigh left his mouth, resignation in his tone. "Oh my god...okay! Fine!"

“Really?!” Willie's eyes widened and Alex got whiplash from the way the intimidating little frown that painted Willie’s face just seconds ago turned to overzealous excitement. The laugh lines around his eyes became more emphasized as he whooped in celebration, his voice a shrill echo in the expanse of the tower.

Alex had to tamp down the sudden desire to join Willie in his celebration. Even though he was clearly at a disadvantage here, seeing Willie this delighted was worth it. His joy was incredibly contagious and it was hard enough already to hide the smile that threatened to split Alex’s face at his antics, but him looking like the epitome of the sun was a whole other ball game.

“I take you to see the lights, I bring you back. You give me the fanny pack. Deal?”

“Deal, Alexander Mercer.” Willie brought a hand up for Alex to shake but realized half-way that Alex still didn't have the freedom to use his hands.

Alex huffed, rolling his eyes, trying not to look endeared at the way a breathy giggle bubbled out of Willie's mouth at the realization.

The hair wrapped around Alex's arms loosened and he looked up at Willie's toothy grin.

"Sorry about that."

"Nah, I am a _criminal_. I understand the need for precautions."

"Stop saying that. It's not gonna scare me off." Willie tried not to smile but the corner of his lips tipped up just an inch, his frying pan hugged to his chest.

How Willie could make cookware look so lethal one minute and so harmless the next was beyond Alex.

He found himself beaming too as he pulled his hand up for Willie to shake this time and Willie responded enthusiastically, enveloping his warm fingers over Alex's.

"And it's just Alex." 

"Alex." A flush creeped over Willie's cheeks as he uttered the name as if tasting it on his tongue and Alex almost gawked at how beautiful Willie looked just then.

 _Good God_. If Willie kept this up, Alex was never going to stop staring at him.

_Maybe this trip was good for something._


	2. The HGC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Willie end up at the HGC, a bar snug in the middle of the forest, and Willie shows Alex a different side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryn said tangled willex au and I said *404 errors* okay.
> 
> Additionals:
> 
> I made a playlist for _Heaven Help A Thief (Who Falls In Love)_ [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3vDaCbJxBIozUDWgQrearu). (It's in an order for a reason)
> 
>  **RYN MADE ART:[Willie and his Frying Pan // Alex & Willie](https://thesunwillart.tumblr.com/post/640527969247510529/i-cant-believe-i-said-willex-tangled-au-to) ||| [Willie - Caleb hand grip scene](https://thesunwillart.tumblr.com/post/640585709616594944/any-time-i-think-abt-caleb-its-just-kill-bill)**
> 
> **PLEASE READ WARNINGS IN ADDITIONAL TAGS AND TREAD CAREFULLY.**
> 
> **Chapter Warnings:** Drinking/Alcohol Mention, Swearing, Mention of Violence and Murder

For a boy some inches shorter than Alex, Willie was incredibly fast on his feet.

The minute he had _flown_ out of the tower swinging from his hair and his feet had touched the soft grass below, his toes pressing into the dirt, Willie had broken into a run. A squeal of pure excitement bursting out of his mouth, ringing through the forest and jolting birds out of surrounding trees. All evidence of the shy, scared Willie gone as he skated around beech trees and spun in the open field, plucking out dandelions and gently blowing them into the passing breeze. 

It was like the world was Willie's and no one else's.

And Alex absolutely could not keep up with him. 

Maybe he wasn’t chased by sword wielding ex-best friends and psychotic horses enough to be a runner because he was winded as he followed a bounding Willie out of the willows that curtained away the tower from the rest of the forest. 

Out in the direct sunlight, Willie looked even more ethereal and Alex could not for the life of him understand how that was even possible. The gold embroidered at the neckline and sleeves of his deep blue-green tunic shimmered in the slivers of light coming through the forest canopy, making his skin glow along with it. His train of brilliant brown hair spilled past his shoulders, fanning out into the grass like they belonged there. 

Alex was enraptured. He didn't think he could ever get used to the feeling of utter mesmerization he had whenever he drank in the sight of Willie.

“Why didn’t I do this _sooner_?” Willie exclaimed as he dipped his feet into a small puddle of water, wiggling his toes around, a giddiness in the crinkles of his eyes and the curve of his lips. 

“I’m wondering the same thing.” Alex responded from his perch under an oak, leaning back in the shade, a blade of grass between his teeth as he watched the whole scene in bewilderment. He had only sat down for a minute to catch his breath because Willie had decided the clearing was a good place to try out puddles and feel the grass.

Willie was a child in a teen’s body and Alex wished he could have that. That jubilance. That innocence. The child-like wonder. It was enchanting.

Willie whooped loudly, jumping into the air again like if he tried hard enough he could fly. “Why didn’t _I do this sooner_?”

The words caught up to him it seemed because not a second later, Willie's excitement was gone, his smile with it.

He maneuvered a strand of hair that had fallen over his face back behind his ear as he stepped towards the tree Alex resided under, pushing up onto the oak's overhanging branch with his legs dangling over the edge. His hair cascaded in a twist down the branch, swaying in the wind and Alex would’ve easily been distracted by it if it wasn’t for the urgency of the present situation.

Alex let a beat of silence pass, giving Willie a moment to open up without being pushy. They sat there, Willie lazily swinging his legs under the bough and Alex laying back against the trunk, counting the clouds as they passed the sky. The only sound the rustling of grass and leaves as a wind swept the forest. Then, Alex let the words slip off his tongue.

“What’s wrong?” His eyebrows furrowed as he stared up at him and despite his sadness, Willie couldn’t help the warmth that settled in his chest at Alex's concern.

“Father isn’t gonna be happy." Willie sounded so dispirited, his eyes downcast.

“You do everything your father tells you?”

Alex expected Willie to get angry, maybe insult him. Luke would’ve if Alex had directed the words at him. Anything but the sadness. Except Willie didn’t. He only sighed, looking down at his hands. Alex wasn’t stupid though, he knew Willie had his eyes focused on his wrist and the red fury that had rushed through his chest back at the tower came back full force.

“You don’t?”

“Did he do that?”

They’d said the words at the same time and it jumbled in the air between them, almost stolen by the wind but Alex caught them nevertheless, his hands clenching into fists.

“No, I don’t do what my dad tells me to. Because he’s not a good dad. And by the looks of it, neither is yours.” Alex's forehead creased, the corners of his mouth pulling down as he stood up, facing Willie.

At his height, his eyes came level with Willie’s lap and he observed his wrist again. Willie brushed a slow thumb over the bruise, willing it to go away but it only looked darker since the last time. His sleeves had ridden up enough that Alex could see exactly where it ended, a harsh press of a coward’s pinky. 

“What are you talking about?” Willie said, a sheen swam in his gaze as he locked eyes with Alex. Fiddling with his sleeve, Willie dragged it back down over his arm but this time Alex was more than capable of stopping it. He pushed a gentle but firm hand against Willie’s moving one, his fingers on his knuckles.

“Did your father do that to you?"

Willie pressed his lips together, nudging away Alex’s hand and grabbing the pan that sat next to him. He jumped off the branch and brushed past Alex. “We should get going.”

Alex should’ve seen this coming. He should’ve known not to push. After all, who was he to Willie? A thief who broke into his tower and scared him half to death. Yeah, that’s what he was. A minor inconvenience in Willie’s day. _Someone he could use to go see the lanterns._

That thought tasted something awful in his mouth, bitter and cheap. 

He hadn’t known him long, had known him for exactly an hour actually but he knew Willie didn’t have the ability to take advantage of anyone. Even though this was exactly what it was, wasn’t it? A deal. Alex shows him the lights. Willie gives him the crown back.

_It was cheap._

Even having suffered through backstabbers and blackmailers of all his life, having been seasoned to leave people out in the cold and distrust any moving object in close proximity of him, Alex refused to believe it. Alex refused to believe Willie was anything but who he had been in that tower, a scared young man wishing for and dreaming of something as miniscule as once-a-year lanterns.

“I’m sorry.”

Alex whipped his head up, jerking away from his thoughts and looking straight at Willie’s face. He had turned around and was watching Alex carefully, trying to decipher his expression or read his mind or both. His eyes seemed even more entrenched in the dizzying despair but there was guilt there now, bordering that despair.

_What was he sorry for? Alex was the one who had crossed the line._

"For what?" 

"You're doing me this favour”— _against your will — "_ and I shouldn't have been so rude."

"No, I shouldn't have gotten personal." Alex brought his hand up to put on Willie’s shoulder - perhaps to comfort- before thinking better of it. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”

"No, no. It’s okay. It's just- I'd rather not talk about it. You know?" Willie sighed, running a hand through his hair, toeing at the grass at his feet.

_He did know. Family was hard…They were hard to talk about._

"Yeah."

For a while, they walked in silence. Alex just a little bit behind Willie, trying to keep his distance. 

_Trying not to cross a line again._

Even though the rush of thoughts buzzed through his head anyway.

_What was Willie’s home life like? What was his father like?_

He shook them away— it wasn’t his right to ask— and came back to the problem at hand. And there _was_ a problem. 

Alex was out of arrows. His quiver was empty and he didn't know what the village of Felizia would look like. There could be palace guards all over the place, looking for him and he needed some kind of weapon. Just in case.

"Bambi." 

Willie turned to look at him and it shocked Alex how fast Willie responded to the nickname as if he was christened with it. His eyes caught the dusty rose of Willie's cheeks. A natural reaction to _bambi_ and Alex made a note to use it more often.

He cleared his throat, ignoring the way every one of Willie's microexpressions caused his heart to drum a different beat.

"We need to make a stop somewhere. I need to grab some arrows before we get to the village.”

“Arrows?” Willie tilted his head —and that little motion had no right being so cute— the hair at his swoop falling over his face as he furrowed his brows.

Alex pulled the bow buckled to his back. “You know like a bow and arrow? It’s like your frying pan but it hurts less.”

_No, it doesn’t. One arrow to your leg and you’d never stop crying in agony. Alex could still hear the wails sometimes. But Willie’s frying pan was pretty hardcore too._

“It’s a weapon? Why would you need a weapon?” Anger creeped into Willie’s voice, it was accusatory and Alex couldn’t help but put his hands up in surrender when Willie prodded his chest with his frying pan.

“Woah, woah, woah. It’s just in case we get into trouble. I don’t usually use it to hurt anyone. I use it more like a distraction or a scare tactic.”

 _And to keep himself focused and calm the constant rushing thoughts in his head but that was too personal and too vulnerable and for the sake of his reputation, he would never tell a soul_.

“ _Usually_?” Willie exclaimed, stepping closer to him, a threat in every movement.

“There was this one time-” 

“ _One time_?!”

“It was an arrow to the leg- I didn’t kill anyone- In fact, I took him to the doctor. Look, it doesn’t matter. I don’t hurt anyone anymore. I promise.”

_But what did a promise mean from a thief like Alex?_

“Okay.” 

Alex’s jaw found the ground. _Just like that?_ Okay? _Willie was too trusting. And that was frightening. Because he knew Willie would be out for vengeance if it was a lie._

“So the HGC. It’s a quaint little bar. Doubles as an armory. But you’ll love it.” Alex grabbed the frying pan still pressing at his chest, using it to pull Willie along.

* * *

William was becoming a bit of a problem.

If it was up to Caleb, he’d put the boy in a cage — the tower wasn’t enough it seemed— and keep him there for when he needed him. The only problem with that was that around the time William learned to speak, his hair stopped glowing when the song was sung by anyone but his own voice. And that meant he had to do William’s bidding to get what he wanted, to get the boy to sing for him.

Basic necessities were not a problem but then the boy learned to paint, finger painting with mashed berries and covering walls and paper alike in sticky messes until Caleb finally gifted him real paint. 

After that William was easy to control, just give him more paint and he was compliant, putty in Caleb’s hands.

Just as advantageous as it had become, it was also the biggest mistake Caleb could’ve made. The wretched child went and grew an overactive imagination and started dreaming of things he could never have.

That’s what got him here, didn’t it? The fucking paint.To show Willie he had some control over his pathetic life when he had none and he never would because Caleb held his fate in the palm of his hands. 

_The floating lights._

The slight mention of the lanterns had sent him over the edge, had crumbled his control and William had seen his ugly side. But it couldn't be ignored, the boy was starting to ask questions and William catching the slightest whiff of the actual truth could leave this carefully balanced life Caleb had fabricated into shambles. He would get the boy his paint, the paint would quiet him down enough that Caleb could figure out what to do next.

_The floating lights._

A deep curdling anger coiled in his stomach just thinking about this morning.

_The floating lights._

If William ever uttered those words again-

-

He stood in an empty room, in an empty tower. Ripped curtains and shredded pillows on the ground. Shattered porcelain plates in the kitchen and a grit to his teeth. A wanted poster gripped tightly in one hand and the Prince’s crown in the other. All from a poorly hidden waist bag. 

Someone had taken William. Some Alexander Mercer. _And he was going to die for it._

Caleb crumpled the poster in his hand, chucking it across the room as he stepped into his bedroom. He pulled open his drawer, catching the glint of the knife he kept there.

He couldn’t taint his hands with the blood of a well-known criminal though. It was too risky, people were looking for him. 

But he knew who could.

* * *

The bar would’ve been a quaint little place, Willie was sure. 

A grand log house with an enormous overgrown tree pushing over it, providing shade from the heat of the sun. Horses lined the fences surrounding it and two arched windows sat on either side of the red chestnut double doors. 

It did look like a great place to rest your feet after a long trip. 

Except they stepped inside and it was anything but. Willie had never seen his father’s words become a reality before that moment. There were so many knives and sharp-toothed men and he was sure he saw a lady with claws for hands. To make things worse, the place was dimly lit and too crowded for Willie’s liking. 

Not even a minute upon entering the tavern and Willie had his fingernails digging into Alex's forearms, peering from above his broad shoulders at all the _monsters_.

_He was going to die. He was going to die. Oh. My. God. He was definitely going to die._

Every one of them could eat him for breakfast, lunch and dinner and that thought terrified him. Maybe Father was right. Maybe he couldn't survive the world outside the tower. Maybe his demise was written right here among the wooden confines of a bar that smelled too much like stale sweat, snuffed out cigars and terribly cheap floral perfume concealing the scent of something acrid.

“Calm down princess, I'll protect you.” Alex's voice was a balm to Willie's stampeding heart. He could just hear the smirk on Alex’s stupid (stupidly beautiful) face and he punched him in the back in retaliation.

“Shut up and get your thing. I want to leave.”

A looming figure shadowed their path before Alex could get to the door of the armory on the other side of the log house. There in front of them stood a man at least two heads taller than Alex. He stood with his axe lifted to his shoulder in one hand and a yellowing coffee-mug stained wanted poster in the other.

WANTED: Alexander Mercer, Thief.

REWARD: 1000 bellions

When Alex said he was a wanted criminal, Willie thought he was exaggerating. This was no exaggeration and Willie stopped breathing for a second at the man’s gruff voice.

“This you?” His beady eyes scrutinized Alex, his lips turning up in a snarl.

It could’ve been Alex except whoever sketched out his profile for the poster drew his nose way too large and despite the situation, Willie muffled a laugh behind his hand. 

He could tell Alex heard him because 1. Willie was mere inches from Alex’s left ear and 2. Alex seemed to relax his shoulders just a little. 

Willie didn’t know what that meant but he hoped it meant Alex had a plan.

“No?” Alex tried, stepping back and bringing his hands up. “Look fella, you obviously have the wrong guy.”

_So that was his plan? Lying? It was a dumb plan._

But it was too late, the poster had drawn some eyes and men and women alike converged on the two of them. Willie heard the way Alex’s breath caught in his throat, his hand instinctively going around to press at Willie’s hip as he slowly moved them back towards the door. Willie picked up his hair, wrapping them around his arm, ready to make a run for it. But before either of them could do anything as such, someone yanked Alex out of Willie’s grip.

“This one’s gonna get me a new pelt.” The man holding the wanted poster grabbed Alex, a beefy arm around his throat. 

“No, he’s gonna buy me a nice house in the village.” A woman growled, taking a vicious step forward and unsheathing her sword.

Willie was pushed back as more people circled around Alex, pulling him this way and that like a rag doll, making their own plans with what they’d do with the bounty from his arrest.

_Oh, god. This was not happening._

_He wasn't about to lose the one man he knew from this strangely new world. The one man keeping him safe, keeping his fears at bay. The one man he_ trusted _._

“Hey.” Willie called, his voice a pin against the gongs of animalistic roars.

“Hey!” Nothing.

He thrust himself into the crowd, his fear momentarily gone, replaced with insurmountable rage _because that was his man. That was his man. He needed Alex- he needed Alex to show him the lights. And his arrest would ruin everything._

When he reached the heart of the tussle, he clambered over the shoulders of some of the men surrounding Alex and Axeman. He whipped his arm back, striking Axeman on the head with his frying pan.

The explosive sound of the cast iron against a dense head pierced the air like a blaring alarm and all shouting stopped.

Axeman froze and with him, every other soul in the room.

Silence filled the bar like it never had before and all eyes turned to Willie but Willie noticed none of that in his anger. He jumped onto the ground in front of the bandits, his jaw clenched.

“What the hell is _wrong_ with all of you?!” He shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls in an echo. “Put. Him. _Down_! And _get it together_!”

Axeman seemed to lose his snarl, placing a wide-eyed Alex back on his feet. 

“I’ve never asked for anything in my life! I just make do with what I get! But I draw the line at spending another birthday without seeing the lanterns! And I need him to show them to me! I don’t care if you want a new pelt or a house or if you wanna buy yourself a hotdog cart, you can do that _whenever_ you want! But that man right there,” Willie jabbed his frying pan into the air in the direction of a baffled Alex. “and this time right now is my _only_ chance at seeing the lights for the _rest of my life._ So will you, for the love of god, find your _humanity_?!”

The log house was quiet again save for Willie’s heavy breathing.

Axeman spoke up first, words Willie thought he imagined for a second. “Yes, sir.” He put his hands up in surrender, backing away slowly and turning to his drink in the far corner of the tavern. Some others followed.

“You heard what the man said. Now mind your business.” A voice spoke up and Willie looked towards a man sitting at the bar, his stool turned to face the scene. The shaggy black hair covering the man's forehead fell over his eye when he raised a glass to Willie.

Just like that, the crowd dispersed. Someone patted Willie on the back but he missed seeing who it was in his shock.

That.

Actually.

Worked.

That _actually_ worked _. That actually worked._

Alex stepped up next to him, poking him lightly in the chest. “Are you real?”

There was no way Willie just did that and got away with it without a scratch. _But he did._ Alex thought he was living a fever dream. _Who was this boy?_

“I'm not sure.” Willie was still breathless from all that yelling. The yelling _that actually worked._

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.” Alex and Willie both glanced up at the voice. It was the black haired man from the bar, his hands in his pockets and a bitterness in his tone as he continued. “Alex.”

“Bobby.”

* * *

“He’s quite the firecracker. Your Willie.” Bobby said around a sip of his drink.

Alex would’ve spat out his own if it weren’t for the fact that he was too busy ogling Willie who had somehow befriended the same man he had frypaned over the head moments ago. Axeman- Fuego, as Alex had recently learned - was teaching Willie how to play darts. 

Willie was absolutely terrible at them. 

But _man._ The concentration set in his brows. The front few strands of his hair tied back in a bun while the rest cascaded down his back, aglow in the fragments of sunlight pushing through the flimsily shuttered windows. The lines around his eyes that creased when he laughed at something Fuego said. It all did something to Alex’s heart, making his insides infuse with something electric hot. And he was pretty sure he was _jealous._ Of _Fuego._

_Really, really jealous._

_Your Willie. Your Willie. Your Willie._

“He’s not _my_ Willie. But he’s definitely something else entirely.” Alex swirled the drink in his hand, brushing a thumb against the rim of the glass.

Willie had lived his life sheltered yet he didn’t think twice before standing up for himself. He might’ve been too soft around the edges but Willie was filled with such ferociousness that it was enough to put a bunch of criminals in line. 

It left Alex's head spinning.

How could someone defending himself against an unknown world with all but a blistering frying pan have so much power, so much strength?

_For god's sake, Willie took on a bunch of criminals for Alex!_

It wasn’t for him per se, it was for his services but it still mattered to Alex somehow. The question rung in his head again: _who was this boy? And what made Alex lucky enough to know him?_

The sheer idea of knowing Willie sent exhilarance down his spine, made warmth tingle at his finger tips, a phantom memory of pressing his hand against Willie’s hip and pushing him further behind his back. 

They had both protected each other back there and Alex couldn’t help but think it meant something more than it was.

He had to snap out of it. He didn’t do relationships or love or whatever this feeling in his chest was. He didn’t do that. He couldn’t. Attachments meant losing focus of what was important-

“Seems like he’s someone more.” Bobby pushed his knuckles against his lips, laughing at the sheer stupidity that was the flush on Alex's face. It had spread to his neck and all the way to the tips of his ears.

_Someone more. Someone more. Someone more._

_Why did that sound so great? Willie being someone more to Alex._

“Shut your mouth.” Alex crossed his arms, pouting. “I don’t even know him.”

The words sounded feeble, even to him. Lies he told himself to keep the crumbling walls up a little while longer. He brought his drink up to his mouth, pressing his lips against the cubes of ice still afloat in the amber. _Anything to cool himself down._

“Right. Right.” Alex could punch Bobby across the face for that sarcastic tone but Willie would definitely see it. “Well, whoever he is, he really knows how to work a room. With anger but there’s a charm in that.”

Alex couldn’t help but look back at him. Willie, the light he exuded and the joy he created. Surrounded by people he used to fear, talking to them like he had known each one of them for years. It wasn’t just him, they were all enamoured with Willie, every single person sitting in the HGC was absolutely mystified by the strange long haired boy.

Fuego was star-eyed for him and Dante brought back every mistargeted dart Willie threw, even if it meant climbing up on tables to get the one dart Willie threw way off course. Not to mention, the Clawreen twins were _actually smiling_ in Willie's presence. He had turned the dank air of the pub into something amicable. 

“Careful, Alex. You’re starting to do the one thing you said you wouldn’t do.” 

_Develop feelings? Grow attachments? He didn’t know Willie enough to do either. He didn’t-_

He forced himself to look away from Willie, directing his attention at Bobby. Bobby who continued to mock him on his selfish principals and stupid self-imposed rules and reckless endeavors. Alex knew that, he deserved it and he had to make this right.

“I’m sorry.” Alex pushed a hand through his hair, putting his glass down on the chestnut table in front of him and locking eyes with Bobby. “I’m sorry for that day.”

“Go on.” Bobby was a little shit on the best of days but even to Alex’s ears, it was a half-assed apology. 

_Specify_. Something Julie would say, her voice an echo in his ears.

“I’m sorry about what I said the last time. You are someone I’d hate to lose and I’ve been regretting it since the day I said it and I’m sorry.”

“Wow, maybe you should give Willie more credit. He might still make a man out of you.”

_Yeah, he should._

What would've even taken place if he had come into the bar by himself today? Would he have hashed out everything with Bobby, apologized to him? If it wasn't for Willie's influence, would he have done any of this? No. No, he knew he would've simply avoided Bobby's presence, taken what he needed and gone his way. But Willie. Willie made things different somehow. Made him different. 

Willie apologized to him when it wasn’t even his fault. He taught Alex how to apologize generously. And Julie taught him how to apologize eloquently. It seemed like the people who forcefully entered Alex’s life left him with lessons too rich and important to ignore.

He registered the last bit of Bobby's words and felt heat in his cheeks again.

_Might still make a man out of you._

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” Alex kicked his shin under the table, rejoicing in the way Bobby flinched back and hissed.

“You were just apologizing and now you’re back to abusing me?” 

“Does that mean we’re friends again?” There was hope there in the way Alex said the words. 

Bobby was easy around Alex again, he smiled and joked. Maybe it was because of the time apart but Bobby wasn't as cold as the last time they were sitting in a bar together. Alex wasn't imagining that, _right?_

“We were never not friends. You chose to cut us out. Not the other way around.”

Alex couldn’t even argue with that. It was true. The guilt ached in his bones again, reminding him that there was much to be mended. 

_Luke._

_Reggie._

_He would make it right this time._

“Well, look what the horse dragged in.” Bobby rolled his eyes at the figure behind Alex before making an excuse of another drink, saluting Alex as he went.

He turned at the sound of heeled boots.

Carrie.

She looked as glorious as ever, her hook gleaming in the dull light and her hair tied back in a tight ponytail, not a hair out of place. She didn’t look like she belonged there in all her perfection. 

“Carolyn, it’s ‘look what the _cat_ dragged in’.”

“That’s not what I heard. A little birdy told me Reggie’s horse did quite a number on you.” She laughed as she turned Bobby’s vacanted chair around, folding her arms over the back of it as she sat down. 

“Not true. _I_ did a number on him.” Alex smirked, reaching for his drink but Carrie beat him to it, tossing back the rest of his glass in one fell sweep. “I see you haven’t changed.”

“Ah! But you have.” She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, ever the lady, as she peeked a glance at the man of the hour.

“So what’s his name?”

“Listen, I’m tired of all of you thinking something's going on between us when there’s nothing. I met him like two hours ago.”

“Okay, sure. Right.”

He groaned, his eyes flicking to the ceiling in frustration. The same tone as Bobby. _Were those two related?_ It made Alex want to rip his hair out. 

“I’m serious. There’s nothing going on between Willie and I?” Alex bit down on his lip looking back at Willie. They locked eyes. Willie had been staring back this time. Instead of flushing like Alex did when he was caught, Willie's face lit up in a lopsided grin before he turned back to the darts.

“Willie! Uh huh, he looks like a Willie." Carrie flitted her eyes between Alex and Willie before clearing her throat, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Alex jolted back to look at her.

_Oh my god._

_Alex Mercer was smitten._

She would spare him her teasing, he was a little distracted as it seemed. "Right. So what’s with the long hair?"

He wished he knew what that was about. But Willie didn't like talking about anything to do with his home life, his hair included. 

“He’s growing it out.” Alex believed it was a perfectly just white lie.

“And what are you here for?” Something changed in Carrie's eyes, humour dimming, business back on her dark pink laden lips. 

“What? Maybe I’m just here to see you. Why do you always assume I want something?"

"Do you want something?

"Yes."

Carrie chuckled, putting her chin against her arms, waiting for him to go on.

“That little boy scout," Alex nudged his head towards Willie "wants to see the lanterns tomorrow and I’m his tour guide.”

“Ah! You need to get through Felizia in one piece for that. So arrows?”

Alex nodded his head, fearing her next words before they even left her mouth.

“Do you have the money?”

There it was. Aside from the few coins he had to ensure his (and Willie's) existence, he didn't have a spare 500 bellions to spend on arrows and he was hoping, praying, that Carrie would let it slide this time.

“Not today. But soon. I promise.”

“Right. You promise. And I’m just supposed to believe you?"

_See, now that was the correct answer to Alex's promises. Disbelief, suspicion and slight murderous intent. Though, Willie had the murderous intent down to a T._

“You know me. Isn’t that enough?” Alex jutted out his lower lip, trying for innocence but Carrie rolled her eyes.

“If you didn’t live under my skin like you do, I would feed you to the rats." She hollered for another drink, a hand at her temple before speaking again. "I'll let it go this time. On the house. Because I heard what Willie said back there and I thought I'd show some humanity. Just this _once_."

Alex breathed a sigh of relief, leaning back in his chair with a tired smile. "Thank you, Carrie. You're a-"

"The Guards are coming!" A woman screeched from her perch near the entrance of the tavern and silence fell over the bar. Alex stiffened, his heart lodged in his throat. 

He looked over at Willie, watching confusion then fear cross his face when he locked eyes with Alex.

_Oh._

_Shit._

_They had to go._


	3. By The River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willie and Alex reflect on what they mean to each other in their last minutes together. Willie reveals a secret. Caleb initiates his plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryn said tangled willex au and I said *404 errors* okay.
> 
> Additionals:
> 
> I made a playlist for _Heaven Help A Thief (Who Falls In Love)_ [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3vDaCbJxBIozUDWgQrearu). (It's in an order for a reason)
> 
>  **RYN MADE ART:[Willie and his Frying Pan // Alex & Willie](https://thesunwillart.tumblr.com/post/640527969247510529/i-cant-believe-i-said-willex-tangled-au-to) ||| [Willie - Caleb hand grip scene](https://thesunwillart.tumblr.com/post/640585709616594944/any-time-i-think-abt-caleb-its-just-kill-bill)**
> 
> **PLEASE READ WARNINGS IN ADDITIONAL TAGS AND TREAD CAREFULLY.**
> 
> **Chapter Warnings:** Mention of Violence and Murder, mentions of death

Amongst the noise, Willie had barely noticed the way Dante, Fuego’s shorter and less intimidating partner, had stepped in front of him, keeping him away from the sight of the guards marching through the bar doors, their voices roaring demands.

He felt a hand wrap around his wrist and looked up at Fuego. Sweet gentle Fuego, who looked surprisingly calm in the chaos. He pushed a finger against his lips in a gesture of silence, pulling Willie towards the side of the bar where he had last seen Alex. Alex was no longer sitting on the table tucked in the corner of the pub, no longer sitting with the exceptionally gorgeous brunette that he seemed to have eyes for. Of course, Alex had a partner, some pretty girl with a hook for a hand. She was perfect and she looked dangerous. In an attractive way. In an _Alex_ way. 

Willie looked down at his feet, he couldn't compete. Not that he could in the first place – he lacked beauty and charm, there was nothing to his name – but certainly not against _her_. 

Fuego continued to tug him silently through the edge of the crowd forming around the entrance, slipping into a crawl behind the bar.

They finally found Alex sitting there, slumped against the wooden cabinets, chewing at the cuticle of his thumb. He locked eyes with Willie, relief on his lips as he quietly thanked Fuego. Fuego merely nodded his head, looking up above the bar at the stomping feet of the guards getting closer. 

Reggie shoved a few bar patrons to get through, surveying the room with narrowed eyes.

“Where is he?”

There was the faintest hint of desperation behind the anger in Reggie’s voice, it made Alex’s mouth twitch. _Aw, you do care._ If Alex wasn’t actively trying to avoid arrest, he wouldn’t have wasted the opportunity to say those exact words to Reggie. Nevertheless, it felt great to hear them.

“Where’s _Mercer_? Where are you hiding him?” Reggie grunted, directing his guards up the stairs to the second floor of the bar. “Nicholas, go check up there.” 

The use of Mercer should’ve hurt Alex. It would’ve hurt him deeply if they were the only two in the room but Alex knew Reggie was putting on a face for his men, for the growing audience surrounding them.

Fuego nudged him, catching his attention and pointing to the floor. He sighed when both Alex and Willie blinked at him, confusion in their brows. He pulled a lever jammed between two cabinets and the floor shifted downwards into a secret passage.

 _Oh my god._ Alex could kiss Fuego right now. For a moment there, he really thought they were done for. Thank god for pubs and their strange need for secret doors.

Just as Alex was about to move, a quiver of arrows was settled onto his lap and he looked up at Carrie, leaning against the bar, her pink lips pressed into a thin line and wisps of hair falling out of her ponytail. She had been rushing. For Alex. A warmth grew in Alex’s chest at the gesture and he would’ve taken the time to thank her profusely if they had any.

"Go." She mouthed before looking back at the guards cautiously.

Alex turned back to the sight of Willie holding Fuego’s hand in both of his. "Thank you, friend. For everything."

"See the lights and come back to tell me about them." Fuego ruffled the top of Willie's hair, a few stray away strands on Willie's head standing up on end from the motion and Alex had never heard a man like Fuego use such a soft voice for anyone. 

The way Willie smiled at Fuego, all wide and toothy made the guttural jealousy in Alex's heart spike.

Willie shifted back, waving his hand once before stepping down the stairs into the tunnel. Alex followed him but Fuego stopped him short, a steel hand wrapped around his forearm, glaring at him sharply. "Keep him safe." The o _r else_ sat unspoken but weighted in the air.

Alex couldn’t find it in himself to be insulted -- _because he was perfectly capable of keeping Willie safe, thank you very much_ \--, not with how Fuego was looking at him. Maybe at a different time, he would’ve been but they both had the same goal, Fuego had just chosen to say it outloud for clarity.

“I will.”

* * *

_Death_. 

Willie always thought his death was written as one of peace. In his tower, of old age, his hair greyed out and each of his last breaths saturated with regrets of never making his dreams a reality. 

He never even fathomed dying with a chill in his bones, rising water drenching his skin, an inevitable feeling of sheer helplessness locking his arms in. And he certainly never thought he’d be dying with company as unforgettably comforting as Alex Mercer. Maybe they were strangers, maybe they were unlikely companions but dying felt okay with Alex so close to him, his breath still warm on Willie’s skin. 

His wet, cold hands settled on Willie’s shoulders, pulling him out of the water when Willie tried to swim back down to look for a way out. Alex anchored him, his thumbs tracing gentle circles into his skin and even though Willie knew Alex was afraid, panicking, he pushed it all down enough to provide some semblance of calm for Willie even as the water rushed up over their hips.

“It’s no use, I can’t see a thing down there.” Alex was breathless and there was despair creeping at the edges of his voice but the way he brushed strands of wet hair off of Willie’s face, tucking them behind his ear like he had seen Willie do so many times before, it brought him comfort. His hands lingered by the curve of Willie’s ear, a whisper of callused fingers against the side of his temple before Alex went back to drawing patterns into his shoulders.The touch washed away the lingering fear in Willie’s limbs, made more room for the hopelessness.

“This is my fault. If I hadn’t forced you to take me to see the lights. You wouldn’t be here and I- I would be back in my tower. We would be safe. I’m sorry. I wish I could go back, I wish I could take it all back.”

But Willie didn’t mean that. He didn’t mean any of that. He had never been happier than he had been leaving that tower, getting to feel the breeze, meeting new faces, meeting _Alex_. He didn’t want to go back to the tower. He wanted to go back to several moments ago, at the bar, learning and failing to play the darts, back to Fuego who had told him to stay safe. Back to the rest of the men and women at the pub who, despite their appearance, seemed to be nothing but gentle with Willie. And most of all, he wanted to go back to seeing the way Alex’s green eyes expressed something new every time he looked at Willie, the intense way he worried about the little things, the warmth of his company and the kindness of his bowstring scarred hands. 

But then the dam broke, water flooded the canyon and a slate of rock trapped them in a cave that was steadily filling with water. _And they were going to drown._

“No, I wouldn’t take it back.” Alex said the words so firmly, Willie’s eyes drew back to meet his. “I still would’ve done this. With you. I could never even imagine taking back the time we’ve spent together.” 

Every second, minute, hour of this day felt like years of knowing Willie. Years of watching him be fascinated by the littlest of phenomenons and years of being baffled by the way Willie stood his ground and years upon years of Willie being the sun, the air, the earth, ethereal. But it was over and it was all Alex’s doing. He couldn’t do the simple task of showing Willie the lights without putting him in the path of danger. 

“-I just wish I could’ve protected you better.”

_Alex had given Fuego his word. And he hadn’t kept it._

He shifted back and let his hands fall from Willie’s shoulder as if he felt he no longer deserved to touch him. 

Willie’s clothes were wet and sticky against his skin and he felt cool to the touch but there was still a heat buzzing just under his skin at the words Alex had spoken and he searched for Alex’s hands in the dark, interlacing their fingers together when he found them and brushing a soothing thumb over his knuckles.

_I still would’ve done this. With you._

_I could never even imagine taking back the time we’ve spent together._

“You’ve already done more than anyone’s ever done for me, ‘lex.” 

Willie thought back to that exact morning as the water swished around him. How he sat thinking his father would never let him leave, how he would never leave the confines of his tower and see the lights. And yes, he never got to see the lights and now he never will– not when his death was inescapable with the dam up to their chest. But it was more than enough. Alex had pulled him out of the darkness that surrounded him at the mere idea of never feeling the rays of sun on his skin or the delicate grass under his feet or seeing how fragments of light filtered through branches. He had never dreamt of ever being courageous enough to leave until Alex came along and pulled him out of the tragic, starless space in his head. And they stood up to their fears, they fought guards together. Being with Alex was adventure and exhilarance and the greatest fun Willie had ever had.

And Alex himself. A thief. A boy. A friend. Someone to talk to. Someone to share his sorrows with. He never had one before. Alex alone. His existence. It had from the very beginning been more than enough. More than anything Willie could’ve asked for. 

Alex froze at his words, at the soft way Willie uttered the moniker and became so vulnerable. He squeezed Willie’s hand, shifted closer, and there was that warm breath against his face again. “I’m really glad I met you, Willie.”

It was the first time Alex had called him by his name and it made Willie’s breath catch in his throat. If he wasn’t holding Alex’s hand, he was pretty sure he would’ve slipped and fallen into the water. That would be tragic. An untimely death before an untimely death. 

He wanted to make the minutes count.

“Sorry if that felt too out of place, I thought if we were gonna say what’s on our minds in the remaining minutes of our lives, I might as well be honest. I think you’re magical. And I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a good birthday.” 

Willie had never seen Alex so open before, he had a smile on his face and his sopping wet hair curled against his forehead covering the gleaming white of his eyes. His eyes. They felt like they were boring into Willie, trying to memorize him like it was the last time Alex would see him. _It was._

_Magical._

“Oh we’re being honest, huh?” Willie chuckled, willing the heat in his cheeks to pass and praying to whoever ruled the skies that Alex couldn’t see his flush in the dim lights of the cave. “I think I'm glad you broke into my tower and I'm glad I frypanned you because if I hadn't we wouldn't have known each other. And that would've been tragic. You gave me the best day and- and if we're being honest, I have magic hair that glows when I sing.”

“What?” Alex’s furrowed his brows, gripping Willie’s hand tighter when the water advanced up.

It was supposed to be a joke. The water was up to their necks just then and he thought it would be hilarious to reveal his best kept secret mere seconds away from drowning but the epiphany struck him upside the head like a cast iron frying pan. 

“I have magic hair that glows when I- flower gleam and glow, let your powers shine-” The last of his breath pulled itself back into his lungs in his body's need for preservation as they were completely submerged underwater. His nails embedded themselves into Alex’s palms, holding onto the only source of hope in all the inky blackness. He wondered who would let go first, who would lose first in their battle for air. Surely it would be Willie. He had already compromised some of his air and he wasn’t as athletically inclined as Alex—

The darkness was suddenly pierced with explosive yellow. Gold originated at the top of Willie’s long hair, weaving itself into each single strand of brown and spreading down until it reached the ends. A mass of gold all encompassing enough to shock Alex that for a minute he forgot he was supposed to hold his breath and that’s when they both noticed the straying strands of Willie’s hair pulling themselves in the direction of a pile of rocks. 

_An opening. A way out!_

Alex swam forth, tunneling through the jagged rocks even when they tugged and ripped at his skin, desperate to keep them alive and not long after, they found themselves following the current and toppling into a river.

"Oh my god! We're alive!" Willie burst through the water, grabbing onto the wet soil at the edge of the river and pulling himself out. Alex came seconds later, his eyes almost bulging out of his head in his shock as he gripped the grass for purchase.

"Oh my god. _Oh my god_. Your hair glows. Why does your hair glow? I didn't dream that right? Your hair? Actually _glows_?" 

Willie brought his hand up over his wet hair, unfurling the bun at the back of his head and letting his hair hang loose to dry. He turned back to Alex who still muttered disbelief under his breath, sighing and stepping over to him.

"Alex. Alex!" Willie gently clasped his hands around Alex’s wrists, pulling him out of the water. Alex's fingers were a mess of torn skin and Willie found himself wincing at the bleeding gashes at the palms of his hands. "That's not all it does."

* * *

Ames was a hard man to find. He moved from location to location like he was who the court guards sought after. He might as well be with how much blood he had on his hands.

Caleb found him in a small log cabin tucked behind a litany of old twisted oak trees. He sat on the porch, carving out a wooden stake with his switchblade. A cigar sat at his lips and his one eye twitched at the sound of light feet.

"I've come to collect on that favor you owe me."

Ames didn't even jolt at Caleb's voice, merely continued to chisel out the piece of wood in his hands.

"Yeah?" There was amusement in Ames' voice, like Caleb was telling him a joke.

"I need you to collect a boy. And kill the thief at his side." 

Right to business then.

He looked up and Caleb didn't even blink at the new scar etched across his face, starting at his hairline and ending just above his chin on the right side of his face. It looked like someone had gotten reckless with a dagger and Ames had paid the price. Despite the mark, Caleb could bet his good fortune whoever had left it was dead now.

“Sounds like a big job. I need more than me owing you. Hope you have the compensation.”

Caleb's jaw clenched, his brows furrowing. _Manipulative and greedy as always. This was exactly why Caleb hated doing business with barbarians. They always wanted more._

“How about this?” He pulled the crown from under his cape, the gems glinting in the sunlight and catching in Ames’ eye.

“Is that the-” Ames stood up, bringing a hand up to reach for the crown but Caleb stepped back, shoving it back into the bag and hiding it away in his cloak again.

“It’s the Prince’s crown. You do this for me and I'll make sure you get it.” 

“You must be truly desperate to get this boy back. Enough to trade a crown for him?”

“He’s my _son._ ” His voice teetered at the edge of infuriation, no affection in his words whatsoever but he hoped it was convincing enough to fool Ames. “Surely, family means more to me than some crown.”

 _William’s hair was worth more than some material possession. And he_ needed _him back._

“Well, old man, I didn’t know you had it in you. A son. Huh.” Ames sniggered, pulling out the tipping cigar from his mouth, settling the stake down and pocketing his switchblade in his shabby grey pants.

 _“Old_ man? _I beg your pardon.”_ Caleb growled, his fingers curling around the knife in his coat pocket.

Ames ran a course hand through his dark hair, his eyes narrowing sharply and his nose turning up. “Feel free to beg if you must.”

“ _Mind_ your tongue, Ameson.” Caleb's voice had gone dangerously low and the unspoken threat hanging in the air would've caused any weaker soul to wither into nothing.

Ames' jaw tightened slightly, his fists following and he took a deep breath before speaking again. “This thief. Who is he?”

“A man named Alexander Mercer.” 

* * *

“Don’t freak out. Just-” Willie said the words slowly, placatingly. They sat on a fallen log at the river bank, close enough that their knees brushed as Willie gently held Alex's hand in his lap, examining his wounded fingers.

Willie's overly calm tone only served to make Alex more panicked. He was still freaking out about the glowing hair. Willie’s hair _glowed_. They glowed like the sun and- and hair didn’t do that. If Alex sang some funky song to his hair today, it would not start blazing golden like that. That wasn’t normal. Maybe Willie needed to see a doctor. Luke knew the village doctor and despite their differences, he would help. 

And he would’ve suggested that to Willie but the boy was too busy wrapping his long still-damp hair around the deep slash on the palm of Alex’s hand, acting stranger by the minute. 

“I just told you not to freak out, ‘lex.” Willie frowned, his hair falling over his face at the sudden way he looked up at Alex and that's when Alex realized he was breathing too hard. There was that nickname out of Willie's mouth again and Alex lost his ability to function altogether. 

“I can’t help it. You’re being weirder than usual and that’s really saying something.” Alex scrunched up his brows, deep creases forming on his forehead, as he looked down at the layers of wounded brown hair on his hand.

Willie nudged him with his knee, his mouth turning up at one corner, tightening his hair just slightly but it was enough to make Alex flinch as the pain in his palm spiked up. 

“Sorry, sorry...just...just trust me. You do trust me right?” Willie worried his bottom lip between his teeth and for a second, Alex glanced down at his mouth, just watching the press of white against soft pink lips. He felt the heat rush up his neck to his face before he brought his eyes up to lock onto Willie's again.

“Uh, I don’t know, you hit me pretty hard over the head." He chuckled, swiping a hand through his hair, pushing them away from his eyes nervously. If Willie had noticed the way Alex appraised him, he didn't comment on it.

Willie rolled his eyes, bringing his fingers up to scratch at the back of his neck. "What did you want me to do? You were breaking and entering.” 

“You just told me you were glad I did that!" Alex pouted and Willie's heart drummed in his chest. The sight of a flushed pouty Alex could've killed Willie on sight but one near-death experience was more than enough.

"Only because we were about to die!" 

“Doesn't matter, no takesies-backsies!” 

To think if his hair hadn't glowed at just the right time in the cave, Willie would've missed a chance at hearing a renowned thief like Alexander Mercer say the words "takesies-backsies" without any humour behind them. The mere thought made Willie burst out into giggles, pressing a hand against his stomach at the welcome pain of a good laugh. 

Alex couldn't help the way his mouth twitched up at the corners, absolute fondness in his eyes for Willie. The sound of Willie’s laughter ebbed away any remaining anxiety that rested in Alex's chest and made electricity rush up the column of his spine. 

"You, Alex Mercer, are a child." There was so much affection in Willie's tone that Alex couldn't help the grin that took over his face.

“Well, that's a relief.” He sighed dramatically, making a show of putting his hand on his chest comically and Willie cracked a smile, chuckling before the words caught up to him.

“What is?” 

"That I can still be a child." Alex seemed to look away from Willie all of a sudden, biting at his nail.

"Who told you you couldn't be?" Willie raised an eyebrow, feeling the abrupt mood change in the air and shifting closer, still pressing a hand against Alex's injured one.

"Well, for one, my parents. I guess I just never got the chance to be a kid. But I'll spare you the details."

"Hey, I thought we were being honest." Willie lightly nudged him with his elbow, enough to get Alex's attention so he could give him The Eyes. "Please?"

"Alright. Alright!" _Just like that, hook, line and sinker_. "I came from a poor family and we didn't have much growing up. And there were _so_ _many_ mouths to feed. I have three little sisters and my dad was as deadbeat as they make 'em. My mother- she didn't do much about it either. So I was forced to steal to keep my family afloat. I guess you could say...I grew up a thief."

Alex had sisters. The mere thought of older brother Alex taking care of his younger sisters pulled at Willie's heartstrings. Made his chest warm up. But it must've hurt Alex to talk about his neglectful parents and fruitless childhood because his face twisted up like he was in pain, reliving some bitter memory. Willie had caused him to take a trip down memory lane. Guilt buzzed under his skin.

Alex was straight up chewing his thumb off at this point and Willie settled a hand over his wrist, pulling it out of his mouth gently and pressing it down against his lap. "Alex, I'm...I didn't know, I shouldn't have pushed-"

"No, it's ok. It's been awhile. It doesn't matter to me either way. I took my sisters and ran and never looked back." Alex shrugged nonchalantly, wiping his thumb against the white cuff of his shirt idly.

"Your sisters? Where are they now?" Willie knew he was pushing again, pushing way too much but god, the curiosity filled every corner of his mind and made his lips quiver with questions. 

The looming thought that Alex was here instead of with his sisters, being a thief instead of a caretaker - _Alex neglecting his sisters like his parents did him_ \- it all left a foul taste in Willie's mouth. He wouldn't. Under the poorly kept facade, Alex was kind and he was caring and he wouldn't do that. Willie refused to believe it.

"Oh, uh. They live in the village with a _good_ family. They're _happy_." It was almost as if Alex was tasting the words in his mouth, as if still trying to understand that his sisters could finally be happy. Willie's expression softened, his chest filling with immense relief. He found himself sliding closer to Alex, their legs almost completely pressed together. 

"And you?"

“Me? I'm waiting for you to do whatever this is before I run for the hills.” Alex gestured vaguely at the way Willie still had his hair wrapped around Alex's right hand, almost all the way up to his wrist.

"That was not smooth." Willie rolled his eyes. Alex was deflecting. Willie didn't know why but he chose to ignore it for the time being. _Small victories._

"Wasn't it though?"

Willie couldn't hide the amusement as he sang the words to the song that had become the source of his existence. It was always about keeping his father healthy but today he had used his hair, his song, to save his own life and Alex's life. He was slowly realizing his gift could be shared with more than just Father. He could heal Alex, he could heal the injured. He could heal the sick and dying. He could do so much more than sit in a tower, looking out a window. 

“Flower gleam and glow. Let your powers shine. Make the clock reverse. Bring back what once was mine." He'd never sung the song with so much joy before. He felt pure elation healing Alex, feeling the torn skin under his hand weave itself back together, hearing the way Alex's breath caught in his throat as he watched the brown hair settled in the grass gleam a bright gold. And most of all, he had never sung with a reason other than needing approval and validation from his father. He sang because he wanted to and because he'd do anything to give Alex a fraction of the happiness he'd given him today. 

In the silence of the forest, with the first few rays of red threading into the light blue sky, Willie felt peace. Then Alex slipped Willie's hair off his hand, his eyes widening at the smooth skin of his fingers and palms, no evidence of there ever been any cuts there. His mouth opened in a scream so loud, birds scattered out of trees and Willie almost fell off the log they sat on.

"Alex! _Alex! Oh my god._ We talked about the freaking out!" Willie brought his hands up to frame Alex's face, his thumbs at the curves of his cheeks, looking Alex directly in the eye. "Stop freaking out!"

Alex's mouth slammed shut, his eyes wild before he blinked twice, the pressure of the pads of Willie’s fingers grounding him enough to speak again. 

“I’m not freaking out. I'm not! I’m just very interested in your glowing hair and the magical qualities they possess. How long has that been going on exactly?” He squeaked out, his voice unleveled and high-pitched. 

“I’m pretty sure since the day I was born. Father told me people tried to cut it when I was little. But when you cut it, it loses it’s magic and turns darker in colour." Willie pulled away from Alex, pushing his hair to the side to show him the single short cowlicky hair that refused to grow, sitting isolated against the rest of the vibrant brown hair.

“He tried to protect me but people are cruel-”

He hadn’t met anyone cruel but if Father said there were people out there trying to hurt him then he believed it. The proof was infallible. It was in the almost bark brown of his single strand of frayed hair. It was in the way the guards chased them back there outside the bar. People could be vicious if they were given the right secrets and circumstances. A moment of weakness and greed and you could be the monster you were so afraid to see in the world.

“-A gift like that...it needs to be protected. I need to be-That’s why I didn’t leave. I...never left.” Willie fiddled with the key around his neck, twisting it this way and that, a faraway look in his eyes.

“You _never_ left that tower...?" Realization dawned on Alex. Willie had never in his almost eighteen years of life seen a fragment of the outside world. He'd lived all his adolescent and teenage years holed up in some tower, fearing a world he knew next to nothing about. And his father– his father had encouraged it, forced it upon him. The thought angered him and he wished for a moment that he could take Willie and run away as far as humanly possible from the tower, from his father. "And you’re still planning on going back after the lights?”

“No!...Yes. I...I have to. My father- Listen, it’s more complicated than it seems.” Willie pushed a hand against his temple, pulling his knees up over the log and settling his face against them.

He couldn't just not go back. He had responsibility to his only family and he couldn't throw that away. Not even for the glorious sight of the world, the incomparable feeling of being free to fulfill his desires. Not even for Alex. Who had somehow become so important to Willie that he had no qualms about sharing his secret with the man. He didn't fear Alex. He liked him. A lot. Enough to imagine living like this forever. He almost let himself indulge in the imagines of a life rife with adventures and leisures, hand in hand with Alex without a care in the world and then that moment passed. He simply couldn't.

He couldn't do that to his father. His father who, despite being rough around the edges and overbearing, took care of him, raised him, protected him- he couldn't run away from him. Willie convinced himself his hesitation had nothing to do with what his father would do if he ever found out that Willie had even stepped out of the tower let alone spent two days with some man wanted for a drove of crimes.

"Willie. Will, your father may have raised you but he doesn't own you." Alex's voice cut through his inner turmoil like a knife. The utter seriousness in his tone made Willie look up at him and he almost froze at the sight before him. The direct sunlight threaded through Alex's golden hair, making it seem like there was a halo above him and for a second, Willie believed it was a sign. That Alex’s words were nothing short of gospel. That he didn't have to go back to the tower. He'd be okay out here with Alex. He wished. He wished desperately but wishes hardly reflected reality.

Willie swallowed the lump in his throat, pushing his hands against his face, covering his eyes so he could live in his own truth for just a minute more, dreaming could only get him so far. 

"It's complicated." He repeated, trying to convince himself more than convince Alex. Nothing about this was easy and it would never get easier. They were both from different worlds. So drastically different that their time together was limited to two days.

Alex sighed. He understood now why Willie refused to talk about his father and the tower and his hair. It brought him nothing but despair. Alex was helping the situation, if anything he was making Willie stress over something they didn't have the time for. Alex willed himself to calm the rage in his heart, he needed to give Willie the best time of his life and this was not it. 

Silence followed and Willie let it clog up the air for a second more like a thick unseeable fog before he dropped his hands from his face and cleared his throat, attempting to change the subject. "So…"

It wasn't hard. He turned to Alex just as Alex turned to him. Their eyes connected and for a time, the sounds of the forest muted around them, the rushing of water in the river, the rustling of the leaves, the chirping of birds disappearing and it was just them. Alex's gaze flitted down to Willie's lips again and when their breaths mingled, Willie realized he was much closer to Alex than he initially thought. Close enough to pinpoint the exact shade of green embellishing Alex's eyes, close enough to count his long eyelashes. 

Just as Alex pressed in closer, Willie swallowed dryly and glanced away. He brought his hand up to tuck away his now dried hair from his face, chewing at his bottom lip. He looked back at Alex when the silence got too much again and found Alex's eyes riveted to his fingers, more specifically Willie's painted fingernails. A sharp prim coating of glossy black polish on each nail.

“When did that happen?"

It seemed every time Alex looked at him, Willie found a new way to look more captivating than the last. The dark nail polish brought out the medium tones of his skin and juxtaposed with the yellows of his tunic.

“Oh! Dante painted them for me. Told me I was ‘wicked’ and I should look the part.” Willie explained, his eyes scrunching in the corners, all hesitation gone when he smiled down at his fingernails.

Alex couldn’t help but chuckle at the idea of soft, happy Willie being wicked in any sense of the word. Except he was. He was resilient and brave and wild. And for a boy that hadn't stepped out into the world once, he was strangely unpredictable.

“It suits you.” Alex smiled, brushing his shoulder softly against Willie's and chuckling at the way he ducked his head.

Willie huffed, brushing a hand down his flushed face and propping his elbow on his lap, his cheek resting on his fisted hand. "So...that girl, uh, back at the bar...are you two…?"

Alex blinked once, his brows furrowing. "Who?"

"The one with the hook…are you two together?"

"Carrie?" Alex took a moment to analyze Willie, the way his eye twitched as he waited for Alex to answer his question, the way he played with a loose thread on his pants. "Wait, are you- are you jealous?" 

"No! Why would I- No!" The flush on his face darkened, painting the tips of his ears a rosy pink.

It was Alex's turn to laugh, a hand against his mouth to muffle his chuckles when Willie elbowed him in the stomach, and turned away from him with his arms crossed. 

Seeing Willie jealous was something Alex didn't know he needed to experience. He added it to the long list of things he couldn't get enough of when it came to Willie. He could just watch Willie all day, he thought he could've but his brain to mouth filter shuttered at that exact moment. 

"Don't worry, I'm all yours." Alex hadn't meant to say that outloud. He hadn't meant to sound like _that_ outloud and by the way Willie's eyes widened, he hadn't expected it.

_I'm all yours._

Something in Willie's stomach fluttered, his mouth suddenly dry and an overwhelming desire to agree with Alex curling around his chest but before he could, Alex was stuttering, trying to rearrange his words, a nervous wreck.

And oh, how the tables had turned. Willie's mouth turned up in one corner, just watching the way Alex ran a hand through his hair and bit at his lips. _God, he was so cute._

"No, I- she's a raging lesbian!" Alex exclaimed through his broken string of word vomit, his voice echoing through the forest.

Willie blinked. _A lesbian?_

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Is that, like, a condition-?" Willie scratched his head, his eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

"No! You're hilarious, Bambi." Alex chuckled nervously, still breathless. "No, she likes girls." 

"That's new." Willie mouthed the word "lesbian" like it was a completely new word in his vocabulary.

_Oh my god, it was._

"Bet you don't know about gays either?"

Willie shook his head, his face twisting further into the realm of confusion.

"Bisexuals?" 

_Nope._

Oh boy, Willie needed a crash course on a constantly changing world and he needed it stat.

"You seriously have so much to catch up on." 

"But you'll catch me up right?" There was that eagerness in Willie's eyes again. An eagerness to learn, an eagerness to know. The curiosity of a child. Alex loved seeing it. Come to think of it, he loved so many things about Willie. The list would never be comprehensive or exhaustive.

"Only if you'll let me have your frying pan. I put up quite a fight against the guards with that thing." Alex hooked a hand over his shoulder, reminding Willie of the way he'd swung the pan over the guards' faces, and fought a horse with it back at the canyon outside the bar. It was comical to see Alex in the zone with a frying pan in hand. Willie laughed at the memory of it.

"Only if you'll teach me how to shoot an arrow." Because that too had left Willie mesmerized. Just as one of the guards had almost caught up, Alex had turned around, planted his feet down into the ground firmly, swiveling out his bow and angling an arrow just enough to miss the guard entirely but shake him enough to slow him down. Willie had been horrified for a second, thinking Alex was about to kill a man but the arrow had been so strategically shot, it left Willie’s jaw slack.

Willie wanted to learn desperately.The way Alex had focused, the way he'd calmed instantly, a steady breath leaving his mouth when he'd honed onto his target. It was unlike anything Willie had ever seen. He wanted to know how to do that, lose the world for a moment. 

"Done deal." Alex brought out his hand for Willie to shake, much like he had done back at the tower but this time, Willie didn't feel like he was shaking hands with a stranger. Why did it suddenly feel like when he held Alex's hand now, his world tilted on its axis and his heart rattled in his chest?

"Right now." Willie pressed, his cloud white teeth out on full display in his grin.

Alex's eyes widened in surprise as he watched Willie jump to his feet, a look of determination on his face as he swept his hair over his shoulder, pushing them back in a bun and putting his hands on his hips. A rebellious strand fell over his face anyway and his eyes went cross-eyed to look at it in annoyance, blowing it away with a breath and watching it float back down over his face. He tucked it behind his ear before he glanced back at Alex. 

"Right _now_ , Alex."

Alex shook out of his reverie – his very blatant ogling of Willie –, his wide open mouth slamming shut and his eyes flitting away.

"If it's anything like how you play darts, this'll take a while." Alex recovered, pulling himself up and gripping the bow at his back.

Willie huffed, kicking Alex in the shin in his disapproval and smiling in satisfaction when Alex howled in pain. 

Alex found he didn’t mind the pain if it meant he got to see more of Willie's smug little smiles and the way his eyes crinkled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard to write. I was hit by a very hulking wall of insecurity. Please comment to save theobligatedklutz's mind teetering at the edge of _I can't do this. This is just bad writing._


	4. By the River II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reggie struggles with his morality and reflects on his relationship with Alex. Alex teaches Willie archery. Caleb gets inside Willie's head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryn said tangled willex au and I said *404 errors* okay.
> 
> Additionals:
> 
> I made a playlist for _Heaven Help A Thief (Who Falls In Love)_ [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3vDaCbJxBIozUDWgQrearu). (It's in an order for a reason)
> 
>  **RYN MADE ART:[Willie and his Frying Pan // Alex & Willie](https://thesunwillart.tumblr.com/post/640527969247510529/i-cant-believe-i-said-willex-tangled-au-to) ||| [Willie - Caleb hand grip scene](https://thesunwillart.tumblr.com/post/640585709616594944/any-time-i-think-abt-caleb-its-just-kill-bill)** ||| **[By the River scene](https://thesunwillart.tumblr.com/post/641895880431222784/to-be-fair-to-alex-i-dont-think-anyone-would)** ||| **[Bun! Willie](https://thesunwillart.tumblr.com/post/641764906829512704/committing-love-crimes-against-theobligatedklutz)** ||| **[Listen Bambi](https://thesunwillart.tumblr.com/post/641895880431222784/to-be-fair-to-alex-i-dont-think-anyone-would)**
> 
> **DODIE MADE ART:[You Dinged My Pan! ](https://reggiescrookedteeth.tumblr.com/post/640751301430509568/wdym-thats-not-how-it-went-go-read)**
> 
>   
> **PLEASE READ WARNINGS IN ADDITIONAL TAGS AND TREAD CAREFULLY.**
> 
> **Chapter warnings:** emotional/psychological manipulation, slight swearing, emotional abuse, physical abuse, use of weapons
> 
> Author is a warning, note: I do not know anything about archery/techniques or bow and arrows. But I did some research (kinda)

Growing up, Alex was always the overly sensitive one of them. He was an empath and he knew how to get around people. He had that awkward charm about him that made people fond of him. Needless to say, he was a better thief for it. He always got the rest of them out of sticky situations with a few well thought out words or a couple of carefully angled arrows. Reggie was envious of him. He found it utterly unjust that Alex could get himself out of a jam so skillfully but Reggie, Luke, and Bobby needed meticulous planning to get that same job done. 

It made all the more sense when you witnessed the way not one criminal back at the bar made a peep about where Alex had escaped to. With a pensive hand to her chin and a click of her tongue, Carrie denied ever having known Alex when Reggie and her both knew they had all been friends far longer than their heist days- for god sake, she had changed Alex’s little sisters’ diapers. 

None of them talked and Reggie’s inflaming jealousy simmered just under his skin. It was frustrating how much people cared about Alex —enough to help him escape without the guards catching the slightest whiff of him— and how they all had his back. 

_Alex was so wrapped up in himself, no care in the world for anyone yet he had people behind him anyway._

But Reggie wasn’t behind him. How could he be? _Because he’s your friend. Because he’s your family. Because you know his anguish yet you’re here chasing him down and rubbing salt in his wounds._

The internal battle began again. 

It wasn’t until Homeus burst through the doors, the wood cracking violently against the walls, that Reggie felt duty assert itself back into his chest, right underneath the gold metal of the sun embellished plate of armour.

_He had a job to do, a royal family counting on him._

Homeus’ eyes had narrowed, his wide nostrils flaring and it took him all of one moment to find the entrance to the secret passageway tucked into the floors just behind the counter.

They had found Alex further into the tunnel leading out to the canyon outside. 

And somehow Alex had been different. There was a change in his face, the tired lines usually creasing around his eyes and forehead just a little less prominent and his fingers wrapped around the wrist of a long-haired boy that Reggie had never seen before. 

But it wasn’t the company that shocked Reggie, it was that goddamn smile Alex had worn the whole time as they fought, a frying pan in hand and his footwork more impeccable than he’d had in a long time. His aim was better too, his arrows not as near flesh and limbs like they usually were. 

It was no secret that recently Alex’s actions had been graceless, bordering recklessness and as much as Reggie wished it wasn’t because of him, he knew it was. He was throwing Alex off his A game and despite wanting to see Alex pay for his crimes - pay for how much hurt he’d given his friends and family — it provided Reggie no satisfaction seeing him struggle to escape each encounter.

Yet here he was, not three hours from when Reggie had last seen him, looking excited and high on adrenaline and _alive_ again.

It had been two years since Reggie had come across Alex in full capacity like this. And the quirk of his mouth, that real smile, not one forced to show nonchalance or confidence. Not out of smugness or that stupid no-good _I win_ grin. The real thing. It almost made being slammed over the face with a frying pan worth it.

Then his eyes were driven back to the company. The over exhilarant boy at Alex’s side, swinging his long brown hair around stone columns and catapulting himself off ledges, determination and fearlessness in his stride, trying to find a way out for both him and Alex so they could escape before the guards caught up to them. 

Whoever he was, he had given Alex his mojo back. And Reggie thought if they were normal and Alex wasn’t some common thief, maybe they could all have been friends because he wanted to know this boy. He wasn’t happy that he was helping Alex escape — his hair coming to wrap around Alex’s wrist and pulling him over the edge of the cliff and away when he was cornered by Homeus— but Reggie was _really_ glad Alex wasn’t enforcing his self-created, moronic lone wolf rule anymore and actually getting that smile, the one that reached his eyes, back. 

It was especially baffling the way Alex gathered the boy's train of abundantly long hair in his arms like it was more important to him than maintaining his footing as he ran. _Who was this boy and what had he done to Alex?_

It seemed none of them had luck because just behind the canyon sat a flimsy dam disturbed by the onslaught of the scrimmage and water burst from the webbing, cracking foundation, immersing them all.

That’s how he had ended up back in the Royal Court Guard Hall, his wet socks squelching in his boots, his armour waterlogged and Homeus missing again.

And god, he was angry.

He threw his helmet down on one of the tables, glaring at Lieutenant Flynnigan “Flynn” DuBois. She merely stared back, her eyes straying to the dripping snarls of black hair over his forehead and a smile ticking up on her face.

“Withholding information, obstructing guard duty, harbouring a fugitive? What has your rampant girlfriend not done?” Reggie growled, pulling out a chair to sit on, shivering at the cold metal under him, and pushing Flynn’s black booted feet off the table in the process.

She huffed, blowing out a breath of air and rolling her eyes. “Ugh, right! She’s so cute when she gets all _dangerous_.”

“Flynn, you’re not taking this seriously.” He hissed out, combing a hand through his hair and maneuvering them back from his face.

“And you’re not angry at Carrie. So cut the crap and tell me how Alex managed to do _all_ that.” She vaguely gestured to his disheveled, very soaked... _everything_ , little ribbons of water still tumbling down the edge of his chin and nose, leaving puddles all over the carpeted floor around him. 

“He had help. Even nature takes his fucking side. It’s like the universe is out to get everyone but him.” He plunged a hand into the glass bowl of hazelnuts that sat at the centre of the table, throwing one in his mouth and recoiling at the earthy, bitter taste.

To anyone else, he would’ve sounded irate and murderous but Flynn heard it. The longing.

They didn’t all know Reggie’s past with Alex. It protected him from his superiors sitting him out of the field with some flimsy excuse of “you’re too close to this” but that didn’t do him any favours. Each time he went out playing a game of chase the thief with Alex, he came back aged and more conflicted than before and Flynn was starting to get concerned. People who knew Reggie knew that it was practically impossible to deter him from what he wanted. And what he wanted was Alex arrested, at least that’s what he told himself and others but that was _far_ from the truth.

Flynn knew better. She knew the way the boys were all drawn to each other, running from differing circumstances and towards each other. Reggie couldn’t help his need to see Alex even if it meant they were on opposing teams.

It had always been like that. It had always been Alex, Bobby, Luke and Reggie and that wasn't supposed to change. 

Them and all their nights sleeping on cold hard floors wrapped around each other, faces tucked into crooks of necks and arms folded around waists. Surviving, loving, supporting each other. Giving balm to pain and holding each other up, talking each other off the ledge. Protecting the little ones and becoming men, albeit still on the wrong side of the law but together.

Then something did change.

They went their separate ways. 

Bobby, Luke and Reggie were still close but there was not a day that went by that they didn’t think about Alex alone, alone and cold where it had always been otherwise warm. Missing the sound of Luke’s snoring next to him when he laid alone at night. Looking for comfort elsewhere when Bobby wasn’t around to comb through his hair when he panicked. Wrapping gauze around his own wounds when Reggie was the one who fussed over them. 

But Alex had chosen that path for himself, chosen to leave them because he had dreams that needed to become reality no matter what carnage he left behind. Reggie knew Alex’s actual reality, the one he ran from, the one he so wanted to forget and mend in a way that he believed could only be done with some materialistic ideation he had in his head. 

Why did Alex have the need to hide himself behind the persona of a brash thief when if he looked, really looked, he could find the contentment he was chasing already there. It was in Bobby and Luke and Reggie. It was immediately there in Alex’s little sisters, in their eyes and in their laughs and livelihood. He still remembered holding them and the unadulterated joy that emitted from their small fingers reaching out and brushing against his chin. Why wasn’t that enough for Alex? Why did he always want more?

“I can hear your thoughts from here, Reg.” Flynn’s fingers found his, effectively stopping his fiddling hands. He was sure there was skin under his fingernails from how much he had scratched at the raised pink skin of his knuckles. “I know you can’t understand him. Sometimes, I don’t understand either of you. But he’s struggling as much as you are. You have to believe that.”

“I can’t. Not when he continues to act the way he does. He’s patronizing me and he doesn’t care about the damage he’s done-” Reggie scowled, his rage rattling in his skull.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t look past his past crimes. You did.” Flynn sighed, pressing a firm thumb over his knuckles.

“But this is the crown. This is too important." Reggie was more muted, tired. He blew out a breath, putting cold fingers to his throbbing temple.

“And we’ll get it back. We’ll talk to him, we’ll figure it out. Just please stop making this a lone battle between you and Alex. I think you need to stop pretending this is just another criminal. Alex _is_ your brother. He always will be. Whether that means you’ll be chasing him forever and a day or taking him back in when he finally pulls his head out of his ass.”

Flynn was right. He had been thinking too loudly because she’d hit every point rumbling around his head, making him spiral and all at once, her words settled against his shoulders grounding him. She wasn’t wrong. Reggie had been treating this as catching another criminal when this wasn’t just another case. Alex changed the circumstances. Chaotically and stubbornly but he forced Reggie to pick between right and wrong when things were not just black and white and up and down. There weren't just two extremities to the spectrum, there was a grey area, there was a middle. 

_Maybe he had to meet Alex in the middle. Maybe he could find a way to talk to Alex without the need to unsheathe swords and threaten arrest. It hadn’t exactly worked before but Alex seemed a little more open. Maybe this time he’d listen. Just one last time._

His mind cleared of the thunder for a moment but it was enough that Reggie could look up at the woman in front of him, her wised brown eyes welcoming and her hands hot against his frozen fingers. 

He had only known Flynn for half a decade but she had provided him with nothing but utter passion and warmth, chasing away his hesitancy about finding a new path in life. She had been his doorway to a new life and it was she who still sat at his side, not narrowing her eyes the slightest at him when he did something questionable. Flynn kept him company in the field of greyed out morality that Alex had plunged him into.

He was being questionable. Alex was making him questionable. The sky didn’t always have to be blue. Even people around him understood that better than him and maybe it was time he did too.

“Thank you, Flynnie.” He said, his eyes softer and his voice calmer.

“Always.” Flynn squeezed Reggie’s hand, a fond smile taking up home on her face before she kicked a hard boot at his shin.

“Ow! What the hell?” Reggie flinched, pulling away and his leg jerking up. A scowl twisted onto his face as his hand wrapped itself around the width of his shin. 

“Never say shit about the love of my life again.” Flynn blew a raspberry his way, getting up from the table. 

“I’m taking back all the nice things I said in my head about you.” Reggie exclaimed, chucking the hazelnuts still clutched in his hand at her. They bounced off her armour and Flynn blinked at him owlishly, unimpressed. 

“Your hazelnut privileges have been revoked.” She grabbed the bowl of hazelnuts off the table, tucking them under her arm when Reggie made a move for them. 

He chuckled and Flynn was not far behind. She bent over the table to ruffle his hair before settling her gold helmet back on her head. “See you later, banjo.”

She plucked up her sword from where it sat leaning against the side of the table, her armour clattering as she sashayed out of the room. Reggie yelled after her.

“Stop being jealous! Just because you’re not as talented as me doesn’t mean you gotta be like that.”

“Mhmm, banjo boy.” 

The echo of Flynn laughing from down the hall pulled a smile back on his face and her words rang in her head even after she was long gone. _I think you need to stop pretending this is just another criminal. Alex is your brother. He always will be._

Alex was his brother but how could he possibly wash his hands of this when he was morally and legally obligated to arrest him on sight? Why did Alex make things so hard?

_He would try one last time. One last time to make this right._

* * *

Alex's quiver and arrow were accented with shades of peach pink. The arrowhead, fletchling and the limbs of the bow were all painted that same shade and if you looked closely at the quiver, there was a twist of gold and pink adorning the chestnut varnished surface. On the back, in little engraved cursive writing were the words 

_Nobel_

_Heavenly_

_Valley Dweller_

stacked under each other and Willie made a note to ask Alex what those meant when he seemed in the mood to open up. 

It was beautiful, delicate work and it made Willie want to paint again. On the side, carved out by what Willie presumed was a knife were the initials A.M. Like Alex couldn't afford to get those letters engraved. He traced a finger over the etched letters, feeling a strange sense of warmth envelop him. He could just imagine Alex sitting down one day, underneath the soft light of the sun through a dust-stained window, gouging his name into the surface of the quiver because he needed this one thing to belong to him.

Willie wouldn't have noticed any of it if he hadn't spent so much time inspecting what he was working with and consequently grappling with how to use Alex's bow and arrow. Alex made it look immensely easy. It was not.

“Can I help?” Alex offered, watching Willie struggle to notch an arrow.

Willie blew out a breath, wisps of hair floating up into the air as he looked up at him exasperatedly. 

“Be my guest.” He sighed and Alex chuckled at the pout on Willie’s lips. It was so endearing that Alex wished he could freeze the scenery for a second, take in a few more eyefuls.

Willie didn’t exactly know what an offer of help meant until Alex sidled up behind him, carefully and slowly as to not step on his mass of hair shelved behind his shoulders to keep them out of the way, spread out into the grass around him.

A hand cupped around the base of his elbow, pulling it straighter before feather-light fingers inched down his arm, the raised skin on the pads of Alex’s fingers leaving goosebumps wherever he touched. Willie was pretty sure Alex felt the way he shivered seeing as his back was pressed tightly against Alex’s chest. He was quiet as his fingers settled over Willie's wrist, fixing his hold on the bow. He brought his other hand up, wrapping around Willie's fingers and notching the arrow against the bowstring. 

"Relax." Alex soothed and he was much closer than Willie initially thought, his chin hovering over Willie’s shoulder and his mouth inches away from his ear. A soft brush of Alex's breath against the side of his face and Willie realized if he turned his head slightly, he could press his lips to Alex's cheek and that thought alone flooded red into his face.

"You wanna use the finger tabs at the centre of the bowstring, they take some getting used to and they might hurt but it's better than directly holding the string."

"Okay." Willie responded, trying to catch a glimpse of Alex in his peripheral. His eyes were razor sharp, narrowing at the target and not looking directly at Willie.

"And keep your elbow as straight as you can here or you'll be off target." 

There was just something in Alex's voice that wasn't there before, it was focused but it held an emotion Willie couldn't decipher. These were not thoughts he should've had swirling around his head at that exact moment when he should've been focusing on the task at hand but he couldn't help it. 

He breathed slowly, trying not to think about how Alex's body slotted around his perfectly or the callused fingers pressing softly over his knuckles. "Can I try it once...with you?"

"Go for it." Alex breathed out, his air fanning over Willie's cheek again and his grip tightening slightly around his. "Like a needle through water."

 _Like a needle through water._ Willie didn't exactly understand what that meant but he sensed it was something delicate but abstract all at the same time. An agility in movement and nimble fingers. He imagined Alex back at the canyon, at his firm feet and concentrated gait and Willie released the arrow on his next breath. He watched as the arrowhead plunged itself at the centre of the round target carved out into the bark of the tree, little crippling wood chips falling from around the mark.

"Woah." Willie gasped out, a rush of excitement in his stomach and his fingers trembling with adrenaline.

"Yes!" Alex exclaimed next to him, hands coming up to rest on his shoulders, approval in his guiding fingers and Willie couldn't help but smile in satisfaction. A thumb traced lightly at the back of the puka shell necklace that sat snug around Willie's neck and his breath hitched, his heart lurching wildly.

"Thanks." Willie turned his face, locking eyes with Alex. He seemed way too calm as if the stroke of his thumb at the back of his neck wasn’t nearly giving Willie a heart attack. So collected when they were too close, a whisper of distance between them that Willie could easily cover if he so desired. Willie’s eyes caught the slight flutter of Alex’s long lashes fanning over flushed cheeks and was that the slightest touch of facial hair on his chin? This was just getting unfair at this point.

"Mhmm." Alex bit his lower lip, hiding his smile and nodding his head. He stepped back, dropping his travelling hands, walking over to the tree and wrenching out the arrow embedded in the crackles of bark. He stepped back from the targeting zone before turning towards Willie again. "Now you try on your own." 

And try Willie did. He failed. Again and again and again. Each and every arrow fell into the grass before ever reaching the tree and Willie was losing hope of ever getting it right. It seemed without Alex pressed up against him, holding his aim and guiding his hands, Willie was never going to get this.

Repeated failure was not something new to him but the frustration at not being able to do this bothered him more than it usually would've. Maybe it was because he wanted to make Alex proud or impress him or something else but it felt like too personal a defeat.

"Like a needle through water, Willie. Try again." Alex echoed, standing just behind him with his arms crossed. 

"You know you keep saying that but I don't know what it means." Willie scowled, glaring over his shoulder at Alex. He thought about giving up, not everyone was good at everything. His father had told him as much: _Not everyone was good at everything and it was better not to try at all instead of failing again and again-_

"Try again, Willie." Alex's voice sounded close, almost cutting through his father's disdainful words in his ears. He'd remembered the day when he'd painted a portrait of his father, much to his father’s chagrin — "Come on. Please?" and he had let up when he rarely did even for a 12-year-old Willie. He'd tsked at the finished piece, patting Willie's cheek and telling him it was not up to par. That was putting his reaction nicely, Willie still remembered his father's mocking laughter ringing through the tower like Willie had told a joke. His painting was a joke.

_"You cannot seriously think you're any good, darling. Please. Don't make me laugh."_

Gentle hands were at his shoulders again, turning him around, fingers pushing down the bow and arrow towards the ground, away from being misdirected. Willie looked up at Alex, at the comforting smile on his face. A stark contrast to the twisted smirk on his father's lips. "Where'd you go?" 

Willie's eyes widened. _Had Alex been calling his name?_

He stammered, ducking his head and toeing at the grass at his feet.

"Hey, Will. Can you look at me?" Alex's hands came to rest at his forearms, firm fingers wrapping around the fabric of his sleeves. Willie looked up slowly, blinking away the painful memories and smiling in a way that never reached his eyes. 

"I don't know what's going on up there," Alex tapped a finger to the centre of his forehead, a focused pressure that seemed to loosen Willie’s shoulders before he spoke again. "but you need to focus on me." 

Alex would've given up anything to get that look out of Willie's eyes. That look of a stranded, lost ship degrees from sinking warping every different shade of brown in his eyes. And there were so many. Even with the sun turning the sky pink and red in its wake and the light so sparse, Willie's eyes threw Alex for a loop with their flecks of gold threading through dynamic browns, glinting with so much Alex couldn't understand.

"Okay. Sorry. Focusing." Willie answered almost automatically and Alex shook his head.

"Don't apologize. Just," Alex pressed his forefinger against his own chest, taking a deep breath before he pointed the same finger at Willie. "now you."

Willie repeated the motion, pulling the crisp cold evening air into his lungs and feeling the coils in his stomach loosening all at once.

Alex smiled. "When you panic, I panic. So don't panic, Bambi." 

Willie nodded his head, his lips curving up softly at the man in front of him. He didn't know when it happened exactly but he couldn't imagine a life where he didn't have Alex calming the beat of his heart when he got like this. _'Cause you become reliant on anyone who gives you even a morsel of affection, dummy._

Was that true? Was he reliant on his father? Was he reliant on Alex? Was he a-

_A burden people around you are forced to carry? Yes, you are._

His inner voice was starting to sound more and more like his father the further away he went from the tower. And Willie didn't know if it was because of the incapacitating guilt or because of the repercussions he'd have to face if his father did find out. Whatever it was, it scared him, left his fingers shaking and his toes curling.

"A needle through water. It means the world is cosmic, massive but you need to get microcosmic to really see the little things. You only need to focus on the one thing you care about. In this case, it's the target. So I need you to," Alex maneuvered Willie back towards the tree, the underside of his chin almost touching Willie's shoulder when he leaned closer to his ear. "narrow your field of vision and think smalĺ, only focus on the target. Nothing else. Can you do that?" 

With another breath in and relaxed shoulders, Willie nodded his head once and brought up the bow and arrow again. Think small, think narrow, think microcosmic. Like the details in a painting, the stippling of a pencil, the curve of a line, the exact shade of a colour and the feel of egg-white parchment.

He shot the arrow, a zip through the air and a crack as it made impact.

Against wood. Against the bark. Near the bottom, way off mark. But wedged in the trunk of the tree.

"Oh my God!" Willie exclaimed, his whole body vibrating with complete elation. He dropped the bow from his hands in his excitement, turning around and throwing his arms around Alex. 

Willie felt the way Alex jostled, caught off guard, regaining lost balance before firm arms wrapped around his waist tightly.

It was a late revelation but it was one nonetheless. He couldn't remember ever having this distinctive feeling of being embraced, neither the tender pressure nor the all consuming warmth. He wondered if his father hugged him when he was little but not one memory came up when he leafed through his mind's eye. 

If he hadn't been embraced, this felt like a good beginning. It felt like a good first hug.

Willie smiled against Alex, pressing his nose to his shoulder and reveling in the moment. He took in the solid form of _Alex Alex Alex_ in his arms and inhaled the scent of citrus and old leather. He could perfectly picture the tattering leather couch and a heat of earl grey tea thrumming under his fingertips on cold days at the tower. A few good moments of peace here and there.

His mind caught up to his body and he pulled away to apologize for overstepping but Alex’s hands at his hips stopped him from going too far. Alex didn't even seem fazed, and he didn’t release his hold on Willie, his cheeks tinted pink and a big celebratory grin taking up home on his face. 

"You did it." 

Willie wasn't expecting that. He was expecting an unimpressed nod of a head or a grunt of disapproval but he was met with a gentle squeeze to his arms and a proud smile on Alex's face, his teeth peeking out from under pink lips.

"I did it." He whispered like he was having a hard time believing it, looking up into Alex's eyes.

"Yeah, you did." Alex's fingers reached up to brush away a strand that had fallen over his eye and Willie couldn't help but watch his hand lingering over his cheek and the warmth it radiated in the chill surrounding them. Alex continued to smile at him dopily and Willie returned it full force, pressing just a little closer to Alex's heat. 

They stood there, for what felt like hours, just drinking each other in before Alex cleared his throat, dropping his hands from around Willie’s waist and shuffling back and out of arm's reach. He ducked his head to hide the seemingly cemented joy on his face and Willie felt giddy inside at the sight of it.

"It's getting cold. I should go get some firewood.” Alex scratched at his neck, hooking a thumb over his shoulder and retreating.

Willie nodded his head, wrapping his arms around his frame and waving at Alex when he turned around. Alex waved back, a lopsided grin painting his lips again before he turned back towards the trees, quickening his pace.

Willie huffed out a giggle, sitting back on their log, his cheek coming to rest at the palm of his hand. He put his other hand against his chest, feeling the loud thrumming of his heartbeat against his palm.

He didn’t know what this was, this sensation of wanting to be closer to Alex, wanting to know about the big and little things about him and wanting to constantly feel the reassuring heat he gave off. Maybe he was lonely. Maybe it was because he hadn’t talked to anyone like he did Alex. Long conversation, vulnerability, moments where they stared too long. He had longed for all of this without ever knowing how much he needed it. This felt way deeper than just admiration and friendship for Alex. Even when he wasn’t around, Alex lingered on him, around him, visions of him spinning in Willie’s head and living in the too fast, too frenetic _badum-badum-badum_ of his heart. 

“William.”

The soft smile wiped clean off his face at the chilling voice behind me, his limbs locking up in petrification as he turned around slowly. He staggered up ram-rod straight, his shoulders trembling when his eyes landed on the shadowed figure standing behind him. He stumbled back when the menacing man stepped into the light, pushing back the top hat obscuring his face to show icy blue eyes.

“Father.” Willie’s lips quivered, his hands rolling into fists at his side trying to reel back the mind-numbing fear taking control of his limbs.

 _It was over. It was_ over. 

Caleb looked sinister, the sharp edges of his cheeks and jaw caught the light of the full moon in the growing darkness.

“How- how did you find me? You weren’t supposed to be back yet-”

_It was over._

His father wouldn't let him stay, he would drag him home kicking and screaming. And the anger. There was nothing Willie feared more than that anger.

“Quite the conniving little miscreant you grew up to be, William. Here I thought that that despicable thief had taken you from the tower against your will. But you were deceiving me the whole time so you could what? Be reckless and stupid. Running around with no respect for your own father. '' Caleb spat, each word more venomous than the last as he took a threatening step towards Willie. 

Willie opened his mouth to speak but snapped it shut when his father spoke again, as if adding the last bit as an afterthought. “Disappointing as always.”

_Disappointing as always._

Something cracked inside Willie. 

He was disappointing as _always_. 

_As always._

_He had always been disappointing._

He was _never_ good enough for his father. He would _never_ be able to please him.

It hurt.

So much that he wanted to sink into the ground, disappear because the pain was going to eat him alive otherwise. To think he had worked so hard to make his father love him only to be _disappointing as always._

With the pain came the disdain. A hot flash of fury coiling around his heart. He didn’t want to be enough anymore. He had tried so hard to make the man in front of him happy only to be met with hate and insults and belittling comments. _Enough_.

He flicked his eyes up, angry tears glistening there. “I’ll never be enough for you.”

The words were said with quiet contempt like Willie was tired, exhausted of hearing nothing but knife-sharp rejection leaving his father’s mouth. 

Something akin to shock morphed onto Caleb's features, taken aback for a moment before he stepped another inch closer to Willie but Willie careened back, a mix of fear and defiance crossing his face.

“I've had enough of your rebellion. We're going home. _Now_.” Caleb clenched his jaw, seizing Willie’s arm violently, dragging him along back towards the direction he had come from. But Willie dug his heels into the soil and struggled against the strong grip on his wrist.

“No, let go! Father!” The log clipped his feet, almost caused him to tumble and Caleb’s hold on his wrist loosened for all of one second but it was enough that Willie yanked his arm back, breaking away from him and scrambling backwards on shaky legs.

Caleb turned towards him, a scowl twisting onto his face making him look all the more sinister. His eyes hollow, almost black, when they met Willie’s, alarmingly frightening and cold and Willie’s breath froze in his lungs.

“What do you think is going to happen, William? If I let you stay out here? You’ll live out your days alone? You wouldn’t last a week. Or let me guess, with that _dirty_ criminal? He’ll trade you in for a lavish life.” Caleb said, his voice calculating as he approached Willie, circling him. His long bony hands threaded the back of Willie's hair, strands falling through his fingers in rivulets. It sent a jolt of panic through Willie's spine, making him feel vulnerable and cornered, and he recoiled at the sensation. He gathered his hair on one arm, away from his father's touch and Caleb chuckled at that, the shrill sound echoing through the forest. 

Willie snapped his gaze up, followed him with his eyes, turning his head when the man disappeared from his peripheral, too scared to lose sight of his father. “Especially now that he knows about the hair.”

“How…? How did you-”

“I've been following you. Watching you trust blindly and reveal your secret like you weren't putting your life on the line. God, William. This is why you never should've left the tower. You're so easily fooled! He doesn't see you as anything but a cash cow!”

Willie lowered his eyes, one of his hands coming up to tug at the front swoop of his hair aggressively. The pain was welcome, it hurt less than the serrated edges of the words leaving Caleb's mouth. It hurt less than the jagged scars forming somewhere in his chest.

“No, you’re wrong! He’s different, he...he cares about me. He likes me.” Willie rebuked, his cheeks wet and a tremor in his voice.

Caleb laughed like he'd been told a good joke and Willie's heart dropped around his feet.

"Oh, William. He _doesn't_ like you. He likes what you can do." His father pressed fingers to his temple, massaging it like this whole conversation was giving him a headache. "And if you couldn't heal, he'd leave you in the dust."

_He likes what you can do._

It could be true. God, Willie was so stupid. Of course, Alex only liked him for his abilities. The healing. Maybe it wasn't even that, maybe he tolerated him because he had to in order to get the fanny pack back. 

It felt like someone was squeezing his heart and an immense pain spiked through the side of his head. He jabbed a hand into his chest, fingers pressed to his temple trying to fix the fracture.

"If you want me to prove it to you, just give him this." Caleb pulled out the crown from his mauve coat, the glow of it tenfold in the moonlight and Willie's eyes widened. 

The thing in the satchel. The thing he'd left back in the tower, promising Alex he'd give it back to him if he just showed him the lights.

The lights. They were starting to feel like just a dream again. With his father filling his mind with doubts and distrust, everything felt muted and monochromed. Even the ring of gems his father held seemed charred in its shine. Like Willie was looking at the world through a dirtied shard of glass. 

"Return this to him and see how fast he runs. He's deceiving you and you're falling for it like an utter fool!" Caleb threw the crown his way and Willie reached out a hand to catch it before it clattered to the ground. He held it between his fingers, the tears in his eyes dividing the gems into flecks of glitter in his vision. 

"I will. I'll give it back to him and he'll stay. You'll see." He said stubbornly, sniffling, his hands tightening around the metal of the silver-gold ring.

"He'll leave you behind, William! He'll tell people the truth and you'll be hunted for your hair, is that what you want?!" His father growled, tossing the fanny pack that came with the crown at Willie's feet in his anger.

"No, he won't. He won't." Willie shook his head repeatedly, refusing to believe his father's words. He picked up the fanny pack, pushing the crown inside and zipping it up quickly as if trying to hide it away. Like if he tried hard enough he could make it disappear along with his doubts and despair. "I'll prove you wrong."

Caleb sighed, taking a step towards Willie again, trying for gentle and offering him a hand. "Come home, William. We can still make this right." 

"No! Not until I see the lights!" Willie exclaimed, his voice loud and unlike him. It shocked them both. He'd just resisted, used a volume and tone that he had never used on his father before. If anything, he had never before made a peep when his father denied him something but here he was with new resolve, a new fight in him. 

The self-pride blooming in his chest was short-lived because the mock tenderness on Caleb’s face disappeared entirely, his expression going slack but his jaw clenched, he raised a hand to strike Willie.

Willie saw it slowly, like time had gone viscous, his father was going to hit him.

He had never raised a hand to Willie but just then, his father was going to hit him.

He staggered back before the hand could come down, frightened, he turned tail to run. Away from the stranger with the face of his father. Away from the hurt.

But before he could, they both heard it. The sound of cracking branches under booted feet. 

_Alex._

"Don't say I never warned you, William. When he hurts you, I won't be there to protect you. I hope he's worth it."

_Worth the inevitable world of pain in your future._

Willie turned to watch his father retreat, disappearing into the shadows of the trees with a swish of his coat but not before locking eyes with Willie, communicating his rage.

_Disappointing as always._

Willie watched for a second longer, a thick mist gathering where his father once was.

"Hey Willie!" Alex called from somewhere close and Willie's breath hitched at what he held in his hands, his eyes widening as thoughts spun a storm in his mind.

_He'll leave you behind, William. Cash Cow. He likes what you can do. He'll leave you in the dust._

After everything they had gone through, would Alex still absolve himself from any commitment to Willie when the moment called?

Willie refused to believe their relationship was created only on the basis of give and take. It had started out like that but somewhere along the way, Willie had started believing there was more there...

But was Willie wrong to trust someone like him?

A dirty thief, Father had called him without even knowing him and Willie wanted to scream at him, tell him he was wrong until his throat went raw but he hadn't because wasn't it true? Wasn't Alex just some man who plundered and took secrets and left when things got complicated? And Willie was just that: too complicated. 

_When things eventually did get too difficult, Alex would run as far as he could, away from Willie. His loyalty had never been with Willie and it never will be._

No amount of convincing subdued that looming thought. _Alex would leave the minute he got what he wanted._

Maybe he would but Willie wasn't going to find that out today. Not today, not tomorrow. He would see the lights, return the fanny pack to Alex and then he would go back to his tower. Because there was nothing else here for him.

The rustling of leaves kicked him into gear and he shuffled over to a nearby tree, shoving the fanny pack in the crook of the trunk. He sat down onto the log, wiping at his eyes and feigning nonchalance, just as Alex approached with chopped wood in his hands. 

The smile he gave Alex was pretentious at best, his insides churning and twisting with dread and uncertainty about who the man in front of him really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize for taking so long. I needed to get the right moods and tones set in this chapter and I was simply not vibing. Let me know how I did. 
> 
> Did anyone catch "the needle through water" reference?
> 
> Also note: ignore all of Caleb's advice.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [theobligatedklutz](https://theobligatedklutz.tumblr.com) and come yell at me about what yall think about this fic.


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